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Blind greed! Brainless rage!
In our brief lives they drive us beyond sense And leave us misery for a heritage Throughout eternity!
[Oh cieca cupidigia e ira folle, che sì ci sproni ne la vita corta, e ne l’etterna poi sì mal c’immolle!]
Dante Alighieri (1265-1321) Italian poet The Divine Comedy [Divina Commedia], Book 1 “Inferno,” Canto 12, l. 49ff (12.49-51) (1309) [tr. James (2013)]
(Source)
On seeing Phlegethon, the river of boiling blood, in which those who violently injured others (through greed or wrath) are forced to stand for all eternity.
Some versions have this as something Virgil says; most make it an exclamation of Dante's.
O foolish Rage, O blind desire,
That spurs you on, in the short life above,
To such dire Acts as to eternity
Will keep you in this wretched bath below!
[tr. Rogers (1782), l. 45ff]
O blind lust!
O foolish wrath! who so dost goad us on In the brief life, and in the eternal then Thus miserably o’erwhelm us.
[tr. Cary (1814)]
Oh blinded lust! oh anger void of sense! To spur us o'er the shorter life so bold, So fell to steep us in the life immense!
[tr. Dayman (1843)]
Oh blind cupidity [both wicked and foolish], which so incites us in the short life, and then, in the eternal, steeps us so bitterly!
[tr. Carlyle (1849)]
O blind cupidity! O foolish wrath! Thorough this short life, that spurs them to the sleep, Eternally in tide like this to steep.
[tr. Bannerman (1850), from Virgil]
Oh, blinded greediness! oh, foolish rage! Which spur us so in the short world of life, And then in death so drown us in despair!
[tr. Johnston (1867)]
O blind cupidity, O wrath insane, That spurs us onward so in our short life,
And in the eternal then so badly steeps us!
[tr. Longfellow (1867)]
O blind covetousness! O foolish wrath! that dost so spur us in our short life, and afterward in the life eternal dost in such evil wise steep us!
[tr. Butler (1885)]
O blind cupidity, O foolish ire, Which spurs us on so in our life's short day, And soaks us till Eternity expire!
[tr. Minchin (1885)]
Oh blind cupidity, both guilty and mad, that so spurs us in the brief life, and then, in the eternal, steeps us so ill!
[tr. Norton (1892)]
O sightless greed! O foolish wrath! that dost in our short life, so goad us; and after, in the life that hath no end, dost sink us in such evil plight.
[tr. Sullivan (1893), from Virgil]
Oh, blind cupidity! Oh, senseless anger, Which in the brief life spurs us on so hotly. And in the eternal then so sadly dips us !
[tr. Griffith (1908)]
O blind covetousness and foolish anger, which in the brief life so goad us on and then, in the eternal, steep us in such misery!
[tr. Sinclair (1939)]
O blind greed and mad anger, all astray That in the short life goad us onward so, And in the eternal with such plungings pay!
[tr. Binyon (1943)]
O blind, O rash and wicked lust of spoil, That drives our short life with so keen a goad And steeps our life eternal in such broil!
[tr. Sayers (1949)]
Oh blind!
Oh ignorant, self-seeking cupidity which spurs us so in the short mortal life and steeps us so through all eternity!
[tr. Ciardi (1954)]
O blind cupidity and mad rage, which in the brief life so goad us on, and then, in the eternal, steep us so bitterly!
[tr. Singleton (1970)]
O blind cupidity and insane wrath, spurring us on through our short life on earth to steep us then forever in such misery!
[tr. Musa (1971)]
O blind cupidity and insane anger, which goad us on so much in our short life, then steep us in such grief eternally!
[tr. Mandelbaum (1980)]
O blind cupidity and senseless anger, Which so goads us in our short life here And, in the eternal life, drenches us miserably!
[tr. Sisson (1981)]
O blind desire
Of covetousness, O anger gone insane -- That goad us on through life, which is so brief, to steep in eternal woe when life is done.
[tr. Pinsky (1994)]
Oh blind cupidity and mad rage, that so spur us in this short life, and then in the eternal one cook us so evilly!
[tr. Durling (1996)]
O blind desires, evil and foolish, which so goad us in our brief life, and then, in the eternal one, ruin us so bitterly!
[tr. Kline (2002)]
O blind cupidity, that brew of bile and foolishness, which bubbles our brief lives, before it steeps us in eternal gall!
[tr. Carson (2002)]
What blind cupidity, what crazy rage impels us onwards in our little lives -- then dunks us in this stew to all eternity!
[tr. Kirkpatrick (2006)]
O blind covetousness, insensate wrath, which in this brief life goad us on and then, in the eternal, steep us in such misery!
[tr. Hollander/Hollander (2007)]
O greedy blindness and rage, insane and senseless, Spurring us on in this, our so short life, Then immolating us forever and ever!
[tr. Raffel (2010)]
If I believed that my reply were made To one who ever in the world could dwell, This flame without all motion would have stayed.
But since there never from this deep of Hell Turned back again one soul, if truth I hear, Fearless of infamy my tale I tell.
S’i’ credesse che mia risposta fosse a persona che mai tornasse al mondo, questa fiamma staria sanza più scosse;
ma però che già mai di questo fondo non tornò vivo alcun, s’i’ odo il vero, sanza tema d’infamia ti rispondo.
Dante Alighieri (1265-1321) Italian poet The Divine Comedy [Divina Commedia], Book 1 “Inferno,” Canto 27, l. 61ff (27.61-66) [Montefeltro] (1309) [tr. Minchin (1885)]
(Source)
If I beliv'd
That my reply were to a person made
Who ever should return into the world,
My Flame should without any motion rest.
But, since none ever from this Gulph alive
Return again, if what I've heard be true;
I'll answer without fear of infamy.
[tr. Rogers (1782), l. 57ff]
Thy rig'rous language found a vent
Firm as the rod of fate secures my fame,
As hence no tell-tale goes to spread my shame, Else were thy rash untimely pray'r deny'd.
But, since the Stygian Bar prevents thy flight,
condemn'd to linker here in endless night, Listen, sad Soul!
[tr. Boyd (1802), st. 20-21]
If I did think, my answer were to one, Who ever could return unto the world, This flame should rest unshaken. But since ne’er,
If true be told me, any from this depth Has found his upward way, I answer thee, Nor fear lest infamy record the words.
[tr. Cary (1814)]
Could I believe I were mine answer making To one that ever should his path retrace Back to the world, this flame no more were shaken;
But since none living from our dismal place Hath e'er remounted, if I hear the truth, I give thee answer, fearless of disgrace.
[tr. Dayman (1843)]
If I thought my answer to one who ever could return to the world, this flame would shake no more; but since none ever did return alive from this depth, if what I hear be true, without fear of infamy I answer thee.
[tr. Carlyle (1849)]
If I thought that I was answering one Who could return unto the world again, Still without motion should this flame remain.
But since from out this dungeon never one To earth returned, if what I've heard is true, I fear no infamy in answering you.
[tr. Bannerman (1850)]
Did I believe my answer now were made To one again to tread the upper world, Then should this flame flicker and wave no more;
But since there never from this utter depth Return'd one living thing, if such the truth, Then will I answer thee and fear no shame.
[tr. Johnston (1867)]
If I believed that my reply were made To one who to the world would e'er return, This flame without more flickering would stand still;
But inasmuch as never from this depth Did any one return, if I hear true, Without the fear of infamy I answer.
[tr. Longfellow (1867)]
If I believed that my reply was to a person who should ever return to the world, this flame would stand without more shaking. But seeing that from this gulf none has returned alive, if I hear the truth, I answer thee without fear of infamy.
[tr. Butler (1885)]
If I could believe that my answer might be to a person who should ever return unto the world, this flame would stand without more quiverings; but inasmuch as, if I hear truth, never from this depth did any living man return, without fear of infamy I answer thee.
[tr. Norton (1892)]
Could I believe my answer were to one who would ever return to the world, this flame should stand for ever motionless ; but since none ever hath returned alive from out this gorge, if it be truth I hear, fearless of infamy I make my answer to thee.
[tr. Sullivan (1893)]
If I believed that my reply were given To one who might the world, someday, revisit, This flame would stay at rest without more flutter.
But, forasmuch as from this depth none ever Did make return alive, if I hear truly. Fearless of infamy I give thee answer.
[tr. Griffith (1908)]
If I thought my answer were to one who would ever return to the world, this flame should stay without another movement; but since one ever returned alive from this depth, if what I hear is true, I answer thee without fear of infamy.
[tr. Sinclair (1939)]
If I believed that my reply were made To one who could revisit earth, this flame Would be at rest, and its commotion laid.
But seeing that alive none ever came Back from this pit, if it be truth I hear, I answer without dread of injured fame.
[tr. Binyon (1943)]
If I thought that I were making Answer to one that might return to view The world, this flame should evermore cease shaking.
But since from this abyss, if I hear true, None ever came alive, I have no fear Of infamy, but give thee answer due.
[tr. Sayers (1949)]
If I believed that my reply were made to one who could ever climb to the world again, this flame would shake no more. But since no shade
ever returned -- if what I am told is true -- from this blind world into the living light, without fear of dishonor I answer you.
[tr. Ciardi (1954)]
If I thought that my answer were to one who might ever return to the world, this flame would shake no more; but since from this depth none ever returned alive, if what I hear is true, I answer you without fear of infamy.
[tr. Singleton (1970)]
If I thought that I were speaking to a soul who someday might return to see the world, most certainly this flame would cease to flicker;
but since no one, if I have heard the truth, ever returns alive from this deep pit, with no fear of dishonor I answer you.
[tr. Musa (1971)]
If I thought my reply were meant for one who ever could return into the world, this flame would stir no more; and yet, since none --
if what I hear is true -- ever returned alive from this abyss, then without fear of facing infamy, I answer you.
[tr. Mandelbaum (1980)]
If I thought that I was making my reply To anyone who would ever go back to the world, This flame would stay absolutely still;
But since no one ever came back alive From this deep place, if what I hear is true, I answer you without fear of infamy.
[tr. Sisson (1981)]
If I believed I gave My answer to one who'd ever go once more
Back to the world, this tongue fo flame would have No motion. But since, if what I hear is true, None every returned from this abyss alive,
Not fearing infamy I will answer you.
[tr. Pinsky (1994), l. 89ff]
If I believed that my reply were to a person who would ever return to the world, this flame would remain without further shaking; but since never from this depth has any one returned alive, if I hear the truth, without fear of infamy I answer you.
[tr. Durling (1996)]
If I thought my answer was given to one who could ever return to the world, this flame would flicker no more, but since, if what I hear is true, no one ever returned, alive, from this deep, I reply, without fear of defamation.
[tr. Kline (2002)]
If I supposed that any word of this were heard by one who might return to review the world, my flame would stay forever voiceless.
But since none, if what I hear is true, has from this deep returned alive, I fear no ignominy when I answer you.
[tr. Carson (2002)]
Should I suppose, in answering, I spoke to any person who should ever see the world again, this flame would shake no more.
But since, if all I hear is true, there’s none who ever yet, alive, escaped these deeps, I may reply without the fear of infamy.
[tr. Kirkpatrick (2006)]
If I but thought that my response were made to one perhaps returning to the world, this tongue of flame would cease to flicker.
But since, up from these depths, no one has yet returned alive, if what I hear is true, I answer without fear of being shamed.
[tr. Hollander/Hollander (2007)]
If I believed that I were making an answer To someone able to walk again in the living World, this upright flame would stop its quivering,
But since no person has ever returned alive From this depth of Hell, if what I hear is true, I answer you without fear of disgrace.
[tr. Raffel (2010)]
If I thought now to afford
An answer to one bound to breathe the air
Again in the fair world, this flame would stand
With no more movement, but since none return
Alive from these depths, if I understand
Correctly what I hear, how could I earn
More infamy that I have now?
[tr. James (2013)]
And seeing me so intent,
my Guide said: “There are souls within those flames;
each sinner swathes himself in his own torment.”
[E ’l duca, che mi vide tanto atteso, disse: “Dentro dai fuochi son li spirti; catun si fascia di quel ch’elli è inceso”]
Dante Alighieri (1265-1321) Italian poet The Divine Comedy [Divina Commedia], Book 1 “Inferno,” Canto 26, l. 46ff (26.46-48) (1309) [tr. Ciardi (1954)]
(Source)
Seeing the fate of "Counsellors of Fraud" in the Eighth Circle, Eighth Bolgia. They advised others to commit deceptive acts, and suffer from the "thievish fire" which conceals their identity and burns their tongues when they speak.
My Guide, who me observed thus intent,
Said, Sprits are inclosed in those fires,
And each is wrapt in that by which he's burnt.
[tr. Rogers (1782), l. 45ff]
"Behold yon countless fires," the Mantuan cry'd,
"Each spiral flame a criminal contains,
And wraps the victim round in viewless chains. See! how they shrink, and strive their woes to hide."
[tr. Boyd (1802), st. 8]
The guide, who mark’d
How I did gaze attentive, thus began: “Within these ardours are the spirits, each Swath’d in confining fire.”
[tr. Cary (1814)]
Mine earnest gaze
My leader noting told: "These fires are fraught
With each a soul, that round itself hath twined
The flame it suffers."
[tr. Dayman (1843)]
And the Guide, who saw me thus attent, said: "Within these fires are the psirits; each swathes himself with that which burns him."
[tr. Carlyle (1849)]
The guide, who saw me thus attentive look -- "In fires," he said, "the spirts are inhumed, And swathed in that with which at first illumed."
[tr. Bannerman (1850)]
My guide, who mark'd my keen desire to know, Then said -- "Within these flames are spirits held; And his own flame to each one clothing makes."
[tr. Johnston (1867)]
And the Leader, who beheld me so attent,
Exclaimed: "Within the fires the spirits are; Each swathes himself with that wherewith he burns."
[tr. Longfellow (1867)]
And the Leader who saw me thus intent said: "Within the fires are the spirits; each is swathed of that wherewith he is kindled."
[tr. Butler (1885)]
My chief, who saw me so intently stand, Told me: "Within the flames the spirits bide; Each one is swathed in his consuming band."
[tr. Minchin (1885)]
And the Leader, who saw me thus attent, said, “Within these fires are the spirits; each is swathed by that wherewith he is enkindled.”
[tr. Norton (1892)]
And my Guide, who saw me thus intent, said: "The spirits are within the fires: each one is mantled with what consumeth him."
[tr. Sullivan (1893)]
And said my guide, who so intent observed me, "Within the fires thou seest are the spirits: Each is wrapt round with that wherewith he blazes."
[tr. Griffith (1908)]
My Leader, who saw me so intent, said: "Within the flames are the spirits; each is swathed in that which burns him."
[tr. Sinclair (1939)]
The Guide, who saw me gazing thus attent, Said: "Within these fires are the spirits confined, Burned by the shroud within which they are pent."
[tr. Binyon (1943)]
Seeing me thus intently lean and hover. My guide said: “In those flames the spirits go Shrouded, with their own torment for their cover.”
[tr. Sayers (1949)]
My leader, who saw me so intent, said, “Within the fires are the spirits: each swathes himself with that which burns him.”
[tr. Singleton (1970)]
And my guide who saw me so absorbed, explained: "There are souls concealed within these moving fires, each one swathed in his burning punishment."
[tr. Musa (1971)]
My guide, who noted how intent I was, told me: “Within those fires there are souls; each one is swathed in that which scorches him.”
[tr. Mandelbaum (1980)]
My escort, when he saw me so attentive, Said: ‘In each fire there is a spirit; Each one is wrapped in what is burning him.’
[tr. Sisson (1981)]
Seeing how from the top
I gazed intently down, my master said, "Within the flames are spirits; each one here Enfolds himself in what burns him."
[tr. Pinsky (1994)]
And my leader, who saw me so intent, said: “Within the fires are the spirits; each is swathed in that which burns him inwardly.”
[tr. Durling (1996)]
And the guide, who saw me so intent, said: ‘The spirits are inside those fires: each veils himself in that which burns him.’
[tr. Kline (2002)]
My leader, who had seen how hard I gazed, informed me now: ‘In all these fires are souls. Each one is swaddled in its inward blaze.’
[tr. Kirkpatrick (2006)]
My leader, when he saw me so intent, said: 'These spirits stand within the flames. Each one is wrapped in that in which he burns.'
[tr. Hollander/Hollander (2007)]
And my Master said, seeing these sights working On me: "Here the spirits are inside their flames, Each sinner wrapped in the sin which burned him on earth."
[tr. Raffel (2010)]
And then my Leader, seeing me Look so intent, said “All these flames are what False counsellors must wear and be burned by.”
[tr. James (2013), l. 53ff]
Surely I wept, leaning upon a ledge Of the rough rock, so that my escort said, “Art thou then weak and foolish like the rest?
Here lives true piety when pity dies. But who more wicked than the man who yields To sorrow place where judgment is divine!”
[Certo io piangea, poggiato a un de’ rocchi del duro scoglio, sì che la mia scorta mi disse: “Ancor se’ tu de li altri sciocchi?
Qui vive la pietà quand’è ben morta; chi è più scellerato che colui che al giudicio divin passion comporta?]
Dante Alighieri (1265-1321) Italian poet The Divine Comedy [Divina Commedia], Book 1 “Inferno,” Canto 20, l. 25ff (20.25-30) (1309) [tr. Johnston (1867)]
(Source)
Virgil chides Dante for weeping over the fate of the damned in the third circle, fourth bolgia, who themselves are also weeping.
Maybe. There are a lot of scholarly debates over some of the wording and pronoun references here. Some translators play off the word pietà meaning both "pity" and "piety" in Italian. It's also possible that, rather than the final lines condemning Dante for letting his compassion defy an acceptance of God's judgment, they refer to the sinful arrogance of fortune-tellers (the group being punished here) in believing they can question or change God's decrees for the future.
Leaning against the rock, I so great grief
Express'd, that thus my Guide to me apply'd;
Are you among the weak to be arrang'd?
When without life, 'tis here Compassion lives.
Who can more wicked be estem'd than He
Who thinks that the divine Decrees are wrong.
[tr. Rogers (1782), l. 22ff]
Their laboring reins the falling tear bedew'd, Deep struck with sympathetic woe I stood, 'Till thus the Bard my slumb'ring reason woke: --
"Dar'st thou the sentence of thy God arraign; Or with presumptuous tears his doom profane? Say, can thy tears his righteous doom revoke?
[tr. Boyd (1802), st. 5]
Against a rock I leant and wept, so that my guide exclaim’d: “What, and art thou too witless as the rest?
Here pity most doth show herself alive, When she is dead. What guilt exceedeth his, Who with Heaven’s judgment in his passion strives?
[tr. Cary (1814)]
Certes I wept so, leaning toward a breast
Of that hard shelf, mine escort chiding said:
"Why wilt thou yet be foolish as the rest?
Here pity best hath life when wholly dead: What guiltier wretch than he whose grief avowed
Impugns Almighty Judgment?
[tr. Dayman (1843)]
Certainly I wept, leaning on one of the rocks of the hard cliff, so that my Escort said to me: "Art thou, too, like the other fools? "Here pity lives when it is altogether dead. Who more impious than he that sorrows at God's judgment?"
[tr. Carlyle (1849)]
Sore I lamented, leaning on a rock, A rough-planed crag, until my guide addressed The words -- "Are you, too, foolish like the rest?
Here Pity is alive, e'en when quite dead. And what can be more wicked than the man Who 'gainst heaven's justice in his passion ran.
[tr. Bannerman (1850)]
Truly I wept, leaning upon a peak
Of the hard crag, so that my Escort said To me: "Art thou, too, of the other fools?
Here pity lives when it is wholly dead; Who is a greater reprobate than he Who feels compassion at the doom divine?
[tr. Longfellow (1867)]
Of a truth I began to weep leaning against one of the rocks of the hard cliff, so that my Escort said to me: "Art thou yet among the other foolish ones? Here pity lives when it is right dead. Who is more wicked than he who brings passion to the judgement of God?"
[tr. Butler (1885)]
Surely I wept, supported on a rise Of that fire-hardened rock, so that my guide Said to me: "Thou too 'mongst the little wise?
Here Pity lives alone, when it hath died. Who is the greater scelerate than he Who lets his passion 'gainst God's judgment bide?"
[tr. Minchin (1885)]
Truly I wept, leaning on one of the rocks of the hard crag, so that my Guide said to me, “Art thou also one of the fools? Here pity liveth when it is quite dead. Who is more wicked than he who feels compassion at the Divine Judgment?"
[tr. Norton (1892)]
I wept indeed, leaning against a rock on the stony ridge, so overcome, that my Guide said to me: "Art thou too like the other fools? Here pity liveth but when it is truly dead. Who is more lost to righteousness than he whose pity is awakened at the decree of God?"
[tr. Sullivan (1893)]
Certain, I wept, supported on a comer Of the hard spur, so freely that my escort Said to me : "Art thou still among the simple?
Here piety lives when wholly dead is pity. Who is than he more desperately wicked Who to the doom divine doth bring compassion?
[tr. Griffith (1908)]
I wept indeed, leaning on one of the rocks of the rugged ridge, so that my Escort said to me: "Art thou too as witless as the rest? Here pity lives when it is quite dead. Who is more guilty than he that makes the divine counsel subject to his will?"
[tr. Sinclair (1939)]
Truly I wept, leant up against the breast Of the hard granite, so that my Guide said: "Art thou then still so foolish, like the rest?
Here pity lives when it is rightly dead. What more impiety can he avow Whose heart rebelleth at God's judgment dread?
[tr. Binyon (1943)]
Truly I wept, leaned on the pinnacles Of the hard rock; until my guide said, "Why! And art thou too like all the other fools?
Here pity, or here piety, must die If the other lives; who's wickeder than one That's agonized by God's high equity?"
[tr. Sayers (1949)]
Certainly,
I wept. I leaned agianst the jagged face of a rock and wept so that my Guide said: "Still? Still like the other fools? There is no place
for pity here. Who is more arrogant within his soul, who is more impious than one who dares to sorrow at God's judgment?
[tr. Ciardi (1954)]
Truly I wept, leaning on one of the rocks of the hard crag, so that my guide said to me, “Are you even yet among the other fools? Here pity lives when it is altogether dead. Who is more impious than he who sorrows at God’s judgment?"
[tr. Singleton (1970)]
Indeed I did weep, as I leaned my body against a jut of rugged rock. My guide: "So you are still like all the other fools?
In this place piety lives when pity is dead, for who could be more wicked than that man who tries to bend divine will to his own!
[tr. Musa (1971)]
Of course I wept, leaning against a rock along that rugged ridge, so that my guide told me: “Are you as foolish as the rest?
Here pity only lives when it is dead: for who can be more impious than he who links God's judgment to passivity?
[tr. Mandelbaum (1980)]
I certainly wept, supported on one of the rocks Of the projecting stone, so that my escort Said to me: "Are you too like the other fools?
Here pity is alive when it is dead: Who is more criminal than he who suffers Because he does not like the divine judgement?
[tr. Sisson (1981)]
Truly I wept,
Leaning on an outcrop of that rocky site, And my master spoke to me: "Do you suppose You are above with the other fools even yet?
Here, pity lives when it is dead to these. Who could be more impious than one who'd dare To sorrow at the judgment God decrees?"
[tr. Pinsky (1994)]
Surely I wept, leaning on one of the rocks of the hard ridge, so that my guide said to me: “Are you still one of the other fools? Here pity lives when it is quite dead: who is more wicked than one who brings passion to God’s judgment?"
[tr. Durling (1996)]
Truly, I wept, leaning against one of the rocks of the solid cliff, so that my guide said to me: "Are you like other fools, as well? Pity is alive here, where it is best forgotten. Who is more impious than one who bears compassion for God’s judgement?"
[tr. Kline (2002)]
Of this, be sure: that, leaning on a spur of that unyielding cliff, I wept. "Are you," my escort said, "like them, an idiot still?
Here pity lives where pity's truth is dead. Who is more impious, more scarred with sin than one who pleads compassion at God's throne?"
[tr. Kirkpatrick (2006)]
Yes, I wept, leaning against a spur of the rough crag, so that my escort said: "Are you still witless as the rest?
Here piety lives when pity is quite dead. Who is more impious than one who thinks that God shows passion in His judgment?"
[tr. Hollander/Hollander (2007)]
O yes, I wept, leaning for support on one Of the solid rocks in the reef, making my guide Say this: "You're still one of the stupid ones?
Down here, the only living pity is dead. Is anyone more wicked than the man Regretting the righteous judgment decreed by God?"
[tr. Raffel (2010)]
I wept indeed, held up in my surprise
By one rock of the ridge. My Escort said:
"You're witless as the rest? Here pity dwells,
But only when it's absolutely dead.
Who is more guilty than he who by spells
And mysteries makes it seem as if divine
Judgment were subject to his will?"
[tr. James (2013)]
O endless wrath of God: how utterly thou shouldst become a terror to all men who read the frightful truths revealed to me!
[O vendetta di Dio, quanto tu dei esser temuta da ciascun che legge ciò che fu manifesto a li occhi mei!]
Dante Alighieri (1265-1321) Italian poet The Divine Comedy [Divina Commedia], Book 1 “Inferno,” Canto 14, l. 16ff (14.16-18) (1309) [tr. Ciardi (1954), l. 13ff]
(Source)
On entering the Seventh Circle, third ring, and seeing flames drifting down from the sky, landing on the damned trapped there (blasphemers, sodomites, usurers).
O Vengeance dire of God, how much you should By ev'ry one be dreaded, when he reads What to my eyes was manifestly shewn!
[tr. Rogers (1782)]
Vengeance of Heav'n! I saw thy hand severe (Your doom! ye Atheists and Blasphemers, hear!) O'er many a naked soul the scourge display!
[tr. Boyd (1802), st. 4]
Vengeance of Heav’n! Oh! how shouldst thou be fear’d
By all, who read what here my eyes beheld!
[tr. Cary (1814)]
O vengeance of the Eternal! how ought they Who read the tale, thy workings mark with awe, In that my troubled eyes did here survey!
[tr. Dayman (1843)]
O vengeance of God! how shouldst thou be feared by every one who reads what was revealed to my eyes!
[tr. Carlyle (1849)]
Avenging power of God! how should each fear, Who reads of this, arresting with surprise, The sight which manfestly met mine eyes!
[tr. Bannerman (1850)]
Oh, God's great vengeance! with what heavy dread Thou should'st be fear'd by ev'ry one who reads What to mine eyes so manifest was made!
[tr. Johnston (1867), l. 16ff]
Vengeance of God, O how much oughtest thou By each one to be dreaded, who doth read That which was manifest unto mine eyes!
[tr. Longfellow (1867)]
O vengeance of God, how oughtest thou to be feared by each one who reads that which was manifested to my eyes!
[tr. Butler (1885)]
O vengeance of great God! with what a fear Thou shouldst be held by all who read in awe That which before my eyes was visibly clear!
[tr. Minchin (1885)]
O vengeance of God, how much thou oughtest to be feared by every one who readeth that which was manifest unto mine eyes!
[tr. Norton (1892)]
O Vengeance of God, how mightily shouldst thou be feared by all who read that which was given mine eyes to look upon!
[tr. Sullivan (1893)]
Vengeance of God! In what great fear and trembling Should'st thou be held by each who reads the story Of that which to my eyes was manifested.
[tr. Griffith (1908)]
O vengeance of God, how must thou be feared by everyone who reads what was plain before my eyes!
[tr. Sinclair (1939)]
O chastisement of God, how oughtest thou To be of each one feared who reads with awe What to my eyes was manifested now.
[tr. Binyon (1943)]
Fearful indeed art thou, vengeance of God! He that now reads what mine own eyes with awe Plainly beheld, well may he dread thy rod!
[tr. Sayers (1949)]
O vengeance of God, how much should you be feared by all who read what was revealed to my eyes!
[tr. Singleton (1970)]
O just revenge of God! how awesomely you should be feared by everyone who reads these truths that were revealed to my own eyes!
[tr. Musa (1971)]
O vengeance of the Lord, how you should be dreaded by everyone who now can read whatever was made manifest to me!
[tr. Mandelbaum (1980)]
O vengeance of God, how much you ought To be feared by everyone who reads What was there manifested to my eyes.
[tr. Sisson (1981)]
O vengeance of God, how much
Should you be feared by all of those who read
What my eyes saw!
[tr. Pinsky (1994)]
O vengeance of God, how much must you be feared by everyone who reads what was made manifest to my eyes!
[tr. Durling (1996)]
O God’s vengeance, how what was shown to my sight should be feared, by all who read!
[tr. Kline (2002)]
Great God! Your vengeance must be rightly feared by all who read the verses I compose to say what there was straight before my eyes.
[tr. Kirkpatrick (2006)]
O vengeance of God, how much should you be feared by all who read what now I saw revealed before my eyes!
[tr. Hollander/Hollander (2007)]
But O God's awful vengeance! Reading this, You all should tremble with fear for what my eyes Were shown, dark and terrible, a burning brilliance!
[tr. Raffel (2010)]
Holy Vengeance, how you must
Be feared by all who read what now I saw!
[tr. James (2013)]
Burning at first no doubt would be worse,
But time the impression would soften,
While those who are bored with praising the Lord,
Would be more bored with praising him often.
G. Lowes Dickinson (1862-1932) British political scientist and philosopher [Goldsworthy "Goldie" Lowes Dickinson]
“Burning at First”
I'm unable to find a good source of this, other than a quotation in "A Fanfare for Prometheus," a speech by Learned Hand, American Jewish Committee, New York City (1955-01-29); the speech (with poem) was entered into the Congressional Record (1955-02-09) by Sen. Herbert Lehman of New York.
Fraud, which so gnaweth at all men’s conscience, A man may use on one who trusts him best And on him also who risks no confidence.
This latter mode seems only to arrest The love which Nature meaneth to endure; Hence in the second circle huddled nest
Hypocrisy, flattery; they who would conjure By spells; and simony; the thief, the cheat, Pandars and barrators, and the like ordure.
[La frode, ond’ogne coscïenza è morsa, può l’omo usare in colui che ‘n lui fida e in quel che fidanza non imborsa.
Questo modo di retro par ch’incida pur lo vinco d’amor che fa natura; onde nel cerchio secondo s’annida
ipocresia, lusinghe e chi affattura, falsità, ladroneccio e simonia, ruffian, baratti e simile lordura.]
Dante Alighieri (1265-1321) Italian poet The Divine Comedy [Divina Commedia], Book 1 “Inferno,” Canto 11, l. 52ff (11.52-60) [Virgil] (1309) [tr. Binyon (1943)]
(Source)
On the punishment of common fraudsters, who do not betray a personal trust but only the natural love of humanity. This is still deemed worse, in Dante's cosmology, than deadly "bestial" violence.
Barratry is the sale of justice, employment, or public offices, going alongside simony, the sale of holy offices.
That Fraud of which each Conscience feels the pangs
Man may commit 'gainst those who do confide
In him, as well as those who trust him not.
The first unhappily destroys the Bond
In general by Nature form'd: from whence
Confined in the second Circle are
The Hypocrites, the Flatterers, and they
Who practice Coz'ning, Sorcery, and Theft,
Base Simony, procuring with a smile,
Masked Deceit, and all such filthy tricks.
[tr. Rogers (1782), l. 53ff]
Fraud skulks below with all her various brood, There darkling dwell the foes of public good.
The pilf'rer, and the cheat, his dark ally:
With those, whose felon hand their trust betray'd, Hypocrisy in faintly garb array'd. Corruption foul, and frontless Perjury.
[tr. Boyd (1802), st. 8]
Fraud, that in every conscience leaves a sting,
May be by man employ’d on one, whose trust
He wins, or on another who withholds
Strict confidence. Seems as the latter way
Broke but the bond of love which Nature makes.
Whence in the second circle have their nest
Dissimulation, witchcraft, flatteries,
Theft, falsehood, simony, all who seduce
To lust, or set their honesty at pawn,
With such vile scum as these.
[tr. Cary (1814)]
Fraud, to the stricken conscience inly known, Might man devise on him who faith disbursed, And eke on him who credence had not shown.
The bond of love which nature framed at first. But only that, the latter mode hath slain, Whence nesting in the second orb lie curst
Hypocrites, and flatterers, and the wizard train, Falseness, and simonies, and pilferers' trade, Panders, and cheats, and all of foulest stain.
[tr. Dayman (1843)]
Fraud, which gnaws every conscience, a man may practice upon one who confides in him; and upon him who reposes no confidence. This latter mode seems only to cut off the bond of love which Nature makes: hence in the second circle nests hypocrisy, flattery, sorcerers, cheating, theft and simony, pandars, barrators, and like filth.
[tr. Carlyle (1849)]
And fraud, that every conscience can corrode --
Fraud may be practiced against them who trust, And those who put no confidence in dust.
This seems to come behind, it only slays
The kindly chains of love that nature binds Hence, in the lower circle, station finds
Hypocrisy, flattery and sorcery;
Falsification, robbery, simony, Seduction, quarrels, and brutality.
[tr. Bannerman (1850)]
That fraud, which sharply, ev'ry conscience bites, Man against those who trust in him may use, Or against those by whom no trust is giv'n.
This latter seems to rend in twain the bond Which Nature in her love for us hath made; Whence in the second circle such are held;
Magic, hypocrisy, and flatters, Vile falsehood, robbery and simony, Panders and Userers, and such foul stuff.
[tr. Johnston (1867)]
Fraud, wherewithal is every conscience stung, A man may practise upon him who trusts, And him who doth no confidence imburse.
This latter mode, it would appear, dissevers Only the bond of love which Nature makes; Wherefore within the second circle nestle
Hypocrisy, flattery, and who deals in magic, Falsification, theft, and simony, Panders, and barrators, and the like filth.
[tr. Longfellow (1867)]
The fraud, wherewith every conscience is pricked, man can practise towards the one who trusts him, and towards him who has no confidence in store. This latter mode seems to destroy only the bond of love that nature makes; whence in the second circle have their nests hypocrisy, flatteries, and whoso uses arts; forgery, robbery, and simony; pandars, jobbers, and suchlike filth.
[tr. Butler (1885)]
Such fraud, for which all must compunction feel. Can man exert 'gainst him whose trust he shares, And him whose thoughts no confidence reveal.
This latter fashion all unseemly tears The golden chain of love which Nature weaves. Whence gather in the second circle's lairs
Hypocrisy, all flattery that deceives, Witchcraft, lies, thefts, the Simoniac blot. Panders, chicaners, and all similar thieves.
[tr. Minchin (1885)]
Fraud, by which every conscience is bitten, man may practice on one that confides in him, or on one that owns no confidence. This latter mode seemeth to destroy only the bond of love that nature makes; wherefore in the second circle nestle hypocrisy, flatteries, and sorcerers, falsity, robbery, and simony, panders, barrators, and such like filth.
[tr. Norton (1892)]
Fraud, with which there is no conscience but is bitten, a man may practise upon one who putteth his trust in him; and upon one who giveth no credit for fidelity. This last kind seemeth only to sever the bond of love which nature weaveth; and therefore is it that in the second circle there nestle hypocrisy, flattery, workers of sorcery, treachery, robbery and simony, panders, barrators, and such-like refuse.
[tr. Sullivan (1893)]
Fraud, wherewithal is bitten every conscience, A man may use regarding one who trusts him, Or one who has no store of trust to deal with.
This latter way, as it would seem, slays only The tie of love that nature itself fashions; Whence make their nest within the second circle
Hypocrisy, smooth speeches, and bewitchment, Forgery, thieving, and the sin of Simon, Panders, and jobbers, and the like offscouring.
[tr. Griffith (1908)]
Fraud, which always stings the conscience, a man may practice on one who confides in him or on one who does not so place his confidence; it is evident that this latter way destroys simply the bond of love which nature makes, so that in the next circle, hypocrisy, flatteries, sorceries, falsifications, theft, and simony, panders, jobbers, and like filth have their nest.
[tr. Sinclair (1939)]
Fraud, which gnaws at every conscience, may be a breach Of trust against the confiding, or deceive Such as repose no confidence; though each
Is fraud, the latter sort seems but to cleave The general bond of love and Nature's tie; So the second circle opens to receive
Hypocrites, flatterers, dealers in sorcery, Panders and cheats, and all such filthy stuff, With theft, and simony and barratry.
[tr. Sayers (1949)]
Fraud, which is a canker to every conscience, may be practiced by a man on those who trust him, and on those who have reposed no confidence.
This latter mode seems only to deny the bond of love which all men have from Nature; therefore within the second circle lie
simoniacs, sycophants, and hypocrites, falsifiers, thieves, and sorcerers, grafters, pimps, and all such filthy cheats.
[tr. Ciardi (1954)]
Fraud, which gnaws at every conscience, a man may practice upon one who trusts in him, or upon one who reposes no condifence. This altter way seems to sever only the bond of love which nature makes; wherefore in the second circle hypocrisy, flatteries, sorcerers, falsity, theft, simony, panders, barratry, and like filth have their nest.
[tr. Singleton (1970)]
Fraud, that gnaws the conscience of its servants, can be used on one who puts his trust in you or else on one who has no trust invested.
This latter sort seems only to destroy the bond of love that Nature gives to man; so in the second circle there are nests
of hypocrites, flatterers, dabblers in sorcery, falsifiers, thieves and simonists, panders, seducers, grafters and like filth.
[tr. Musa (1971)]
Now fraud, that eats away at every conscience, is praticed by a man against another who trusts in him, or one who has no trust.
This latter way seems only to cut off the bond of love that nature forges; thus, nestled within the second circle are:
hypocrisy and flattery, sorcerers, and falsifiers, simony, and theft, and barrators and panders and like trash.
[tr. Mandelbaum (1980)]
Fraud, by which every conscience is bitten, A man may practice on a person who trusts him Or upon one who has no confidence in him.
This latter mode cuts only the bond of love Which nature itself establishes; And so there are, lodged in the second circle,
Hypocrisy, flatterers, and those who delude, Falsity, thieving and simony, Pimps, trouble-makers, and all such-like scum.
[tr. Sisson (1981)]
Fraud, which bites every conscience, a man may play
Either on one who trusts him, or one who does not. The latter of the two is seen to destroy Only those bonds of love that nature makes:
So in the second circle hypocrisy, Flatterers, sorcery, larceny, simoniacs, With pimps, barrators, and such filth have their nest.
[tr. Pinsky (1994), ll. 53-59]
Fraud, which bites at every mind, a man can use against one who trusts in him or against one who has in his purse no cause for trust. This latter mode seems to cut solely into the bond of love that Nature makes; thus in the second circle find their nest hypocrisy, flattery, casters of spells, impersonators, thievery and simony, panders, embezzlers, and similar filth.
[tr. Durling (1996)]
Human beings may practise deceit, which gnaws at every conscience, on one who trusts them, or on one who places no trust. This latter form of fraud only severs the bond of love that Nature created, and so, in the eighth circle, are nested hypocrisy; sorcery; flattery; cheating; theft and selling of holy orders; pimps; corrupters of public office; and similar filth.
[tr. Kline (2002)]
As for deceit -- which gnaws all rational minds -- we practise this on those who trust in us, or those whose pockets have no room for trust.
Fraud of the second kind will only gash the ligature of love that Nature forms: and therefore in great Circle Two there nests
smarm and hypocrisy, the casting-up of spells, impersonation, thievery, crooked priests, embezzlement and pimping, such like scum.
[tr. Kirkpatrick (2006)]
Fraud gnaws at every conscience, whether used on him who trusted or on one who lacked such faith.
Fraud against the latter only severs the bond of love that nature makes. Thus in the second circle nest
hypocrisy, flatteries, and sorcerers; lies, theft, and simony; panders, barrators, and all such filth.[tr. Hollander/Hollander (2007)]
Fraud will gnaw at the conscience, but a man may bury His heart and cheat the people who believe in him -- But trust's not needed, just opportunity.
This sinning slices away the soft-tied tether Of love, prepared for us by Nature. The second Circle is therefore a nest for flatterers
And hypocrites and liars, and those who press Illiterate fools for high Church office, well-paid For their filthy work, and bawds, and all such festering
Sores.
[tr. Raffel (2010)]
Fraud eats the conscience, whether used against
Those who trust us, or those who trust us not.
In the latter case, the bonds of love dispensed
By nature are undone. Thus you have got,
In Circle Eight, toadies and hypocrites,
Magicians, forgers, thieves, thugs, dealers in
Holy preferment, everything that fits
The definition of sheer filth.
[tr. James (2013)]
Of all malice that makes of Heaven a foe The end is injury, and all such end won By force or fraud worketh another’s woe.
But since fraud is a vice of man’s alone, It more offends God: so are lowest set The fraudulent, and the heavier is their groan.
[D’ogne malizia, ch’odio in cielo acquista,
ingiuria è ‘l fine, ed ogne fin cotale
o con forza o con frode altrui contrista.
Ma perché frode è de l’uom proprio male,
più spiace a Dio; e però stan di sotto
li frodolenti, e più dolor li assale.]
Dante Alighieri (1265-1321) Italian poet The Divine Comedy [Divina Commedia], Book 1 “Inferno,” Canto 11, l. 22ff (11.22-27) [Virgil] (1309) [tr. Binyon (1943)]
(Source)
Of ev'ry Vice which odious is in Heav'n
To injure is the purport, and the end;
Either by Force, or Fraud. But as to Man
Fraud is peculiar, it more God offends:
Therefore the fraudulent are lower plac'd,
And greater punishment and pains endure.
[tr. Rogers (1782), l. 21ff]
Above the Sons of Violence reside, The bands of Fraud below together hide; (Vile Fraud! The heav'n-born soul's peculiar blot!)
For this, in fiercer pains, the traitors keep Their horrid vigils far in yonder deep; Hated of Heav'n, and fill the lowest lot.
[tr. Boyd (1802), st. 5]
Of all malicious act abhorr’d in heaven,
The end is injury; and all such end
Either by force or fraud works other’s woe
But fraud, because of man peculiar evil,
To God is more displeasing; and beneath
The fraudulent are therefore doom’d to’ endure
Severer pang.
[tr. Cary (1814)]
Of each malicious act, abhorred on high. Injustice is the end: for others' woe Must all such ends or force or fraud apply.
But fraud in man his proper vice doth show, To God more odious; wherefore deeper here The fraudful sink, and mourn a sharper throe.
[tr. Dayman (1843)]
Of all malice, which gains hatred in Heaven, the end is injury; and every such end, either by force or by fraud, aggrieveth others. But because fraud is a vice peculiar to man, it more displeases God; and therefore the fraudulent are placed beneath, and more pain assails them.
[tr. Carlyle (1849)]
Of evil deed, that's stamped with hate in heaven, Is injury the end. Each end's attained With force or fraud, by which another's pained.
Since fraud is then the native ill of man, It more displeases God; beneath the vault, The fraudulent the deeper pains assault.
[tr. Bannerman (1850)]
Of ev'ry malice which just heav'n abhors,
To injure is the end; and each such end,
Either by force or fraud, makes others grieve.
But since of man fraud is the proper sin,
More it displeases God; and so beneath
Are plac'd the fraudulent with heavier pains.
[tr. Johnston (1867)]
Of every malice that wins hate in Heaven,
Injury is the end; and all such end
Either by force or fraud afflicteth others.
But because fraud is man's peculiar vice,
More it displeases God; and so stand lowest
The fraudulent, and greater dole assails them.
[tr. Longfellow (1867)]
Of every badness which earns hatred in heaven, injury is the end; and every such end either by force or by fraud causes grief to another. But because fraud is an ill peculiar to man, it more displeases God; and for this cause the fraudulent have their station below, and woe assails them more.
[tr. Butler (1885)]
Of every malice that in Heaven wins hate The end is injury, and each such plan By force or fraud on some wreaks woeful fate.
Since fraud is ill peculiar unto man God it displeases more, and hence more low The fraudulent are doomed to greater pain.
[tr. Minchin (1885)]
Of every malice that wins hate in heaven injury is the end, and every such end afflicts others either by force or by fraud. But because fraud is the peculiar sin of man, it most displeaseth God; and therefore the fraudulent are the lower, and more woe assails them.
[tr. Norton (1892)]
Of every evil act that earneth hate in Heaven, the end is injury; and every such end, by either violence or fraud, heapeth sorrow upon others. But forasmuch as fraud is man's peculiar vice, it is the more displeasing unto God ; and therefore they who dealt in fraud are set beneath, and greater is the torture that doth afflict them.
[tr. Sullivan (1893)]
All wickedness that lays up hate in heaven
Injustice hath for end, and such end alway,
Either by force or fraud, afflicts another:
But, seeing that fraud is man's peculiar evil,
More it displeases God: therefore are lowest
The fraudulent, and greater woe assails them.
[tr. Griffith (1908)]
Every kind of wickedness that gains the hatred of Heaven has injustice for its end, and every such end afflicts someone either by force or fraud; but because fraud is sin peculiar to man it is more offensive to God, and for that reason the fraudulent have their place lower nad more pain assails them.
[tr. Sinclair (1939)]
Of all malicious wrong that earns Heaven's hate The end is injury; all such ends are won Either by force or fraud. Both perpetuate
Evil to others; but since man alone Is capable of fraud, God hates that worst; The fraudulent lie lowest, then and groan
Deepest.
[tr. Sayers (1949)]
Malice is the sin most hated by God
And the aim of malice is to injure others
whether by fraud or violence. But since fraud
is the vice fo which man alone is capable,
God loathes it most. Therefore, the fraudulent
are place below, and their torment is more painful.
[tr. Ciardi (1954)]
Of every malice that gains hatred in Heaven the end is injustice; and every such end, either by force or by fraud, afflicts another. But because fraud is an evil peculiar to man, it more displeases God, and therefore the fraudulent are the lower, and more pain assails them.
[tr. Singleton (1970)]
All malice has injustice as its end,
an end achieved by violence or by fraud;
while both are sins that earn the hate of Heaven,
since fraud belongs exclusively to man,
God hates it more and, therefore, far below,
the fraudulent are placed and suffer most.
[tr. Musa (1971)]
Of every malice that earns hate in Heaven,
injustice is the end; and each such end
by force or fraud brings harm to other men.
However, fraud is man's peculiar vice;
God finds it more displeasing -- and therefore,
the fraudulent are lower, suffering more.
[tr. Mandelbaum (1980)]
The object of all malice, which earns heaven's hatred,
Is injury; every object of that kind
Causes distress to others by force or fraud.
And because fraud is an evil peculiar to men,
It displeases God the more; and therefore the fraudulent
are placed beneath and greater pain assail them.
[tr. Sisson (1981)]
The end of every wickedness that feels
Heaven's s hatred is injustice -- and each end
Of this kind, whether by force or fraud, afflicts
Some other person. But since fraud is found
In humankind as its peculiar vice,
It angers God more: so the fraudulent
Are lower, and suffer more unhappiness.
[tr. Pinsky (1994), l. 21ff]
Of every malice gaining the hatred of Heaven, injustice is the goal, and efvery such goal injures someone either with force or with fraud. But because fraud is an evil proper to man, it is more displeasing to God; and therefore the fraudulent have a lower place and greater pain assails them.
[tr. Durling (1996)]
The outcome of all maliciousness, that Heaven hates, is harm: and every such outcome, hurts others, either by force or deceit. But because deceit is a vice peculiar to human beings, it displeases God more, and therefore the fraudulent are placed below, and more pain grieves them.
[tr. Kline (2002)]
Malice is aimed in all its forms -- and thus incurs the hatred of Heaven -- at gross injustice, and, aiming so, harms others, by deceit or force.
Deceit, though, is specifically a human wrong, and hence displeases God the more. Liars are therefore deeper down, and tortured worse.
[tr. Kirkpatrick (2006)]
Every evil deed despised in Heaven
has as its end injustice. Each such end
harms someone else through either force or fraud.
But since the vice of fraud is man's alone,
it more displeases God, and thus the fraudulent
are lower down, assailed by greater pain.
[tr. Hollander/Hollander (2007)]
Hated by Heaven, every conscious
sin will end in injustice, and each new sin,
By force or fraud, creates the same result.
But since such fraud is a sin unique to men,
God hates it more. So sinners guilty of fraud
Go farther down, and deeper pain attacks them.
[tr. Raffel (2010)]
Crimes Heaven hates have for their end Injustice, and that end afflicts someone
Either by force or fraud, and must offend The Lord, for fraud is human, and ills done
By humans please Him least, and therefore they, The tricksters, lie down and suffer more.
[tr. James (2013)]
Many in life esteem themselves great men
who then will wallow here like pigs in mud,
leaving behind them their repulsive fame.
[Quanti si tegnon or là sù gran regi
che qui staranno come porci in brago,
di sé lasciando orribili dispregi!]
Dante Alighieri (1265-1321) Italian poet The Divine Comedy [Divina Commedia], Book 1 “Inferno,” Canto 8, l. 49ff (8.49) [Virgil] (1309) [tr. Musa (1971)]
(Source)
How many Kings were thought of high renown,
Who wallow in this marsh, like Hogs in mire,
Leaving their horrid characters behind!
[tr. Rogers (1782), l. 41ff]
There many a regal Chief of ancient note,
Wallowing thro' mire obscene lament their lot,
In ruin roll'd, like brethren of the sty.
[tr. Boyd (1802), st. 9]
There above
How many now hold themselves mighty kings
Who here like swine shall wallow in the mire,
Leaving behind them horrible dispraise!
[tr. Cary (1814)]
How many kings now there set up their horn,
That here shall wallow as in filth the swine,
And leave their names to execrable scorn!
[tr. Dayman (1843)]
How many up there now think themselves great kings, that shall lie here like swine in mire, leaving behind them horrible reproaches!
[tr. Carlyle (1849)]
How many mighty kings are now above,
Shall one day stand like hogs within their stye,
Disparaging their memory terribly.
[tr. Bannerman (1850)]
Above how many live as mighty kings
Who here like swine shall grovel in the mire,
Leaving behind them shame and foul contempt!
[tr. Johnston (1867)]
How many are esteemed great kings up there,
Who here shall be like unto swine in mire,
Leaving behind them horrible dispraises!
[tr. Longfellow (1867)]
How many now hold themselves great kings up there who shall stand here like swine in the slush, leaving horrible dispraise of themselves!
[tr. Butler (1885)]
Many great kings who now lift up their horns
Will wallow here like swine in filthy swill,
Leaving their memories to most horrible scorns.
[tr. Minchin (1885)]
How many now up there are held great kings who shall stand here like swine in mire, leaving of themselves horrible dispraises.
[tr. Norton (1892)]
How many are there that bear themselves above as mighty kings, that here shall stand like swine in slush, leaving behind them loathing and condemnation!
[tr. Sullivan (1893)]
How many count themselves up there great princes,
Who here like hogs in mire shall have their station,
Leaving behind them horrible reproaches!
[tr. Griffith (1908)]
How many above there now account themselves great kings who shall lie here like swine in the mire, leaving of themselves horrible dispraises!
[tr. Sinclair (1939)]
How many above there deem themselves great kings
Now, who shall lie wallowing in mire like swine,
Leaving a name that with dishonor rings!
[tr. Binyon (1943)]
Many who strut like kings up there are such
As here shall wallow hog-like in the mud,
Leaving behind nothing but foul reproach.
[tr. Sayers (1949)]
How many living now, chancellors of wrath,
shall come to lie here yet in this pigmire,
leaving a curse to be their aftermath!
[tr. Ciardi (1954)]
How many up there now account themselves great kings, that here shall lie like swine in mire, leaving behind them horrible dispraises.
[tr. Singleton (1970)]
How many up above now count themselves
great kings, who'll wallow here like pigs in slime,
leaving behind foul memories of crimes!
[tr. Mandelbaum (1980)]
How many, up there, think themselves great kings
Who here will wallow in the mire like pigs,
Leaving behind them nothing but infamous horrors.
[tr. Sisson (1981)]
In the world above, how many a self-deceiver
Now counting himself a mighty king will sprawl
Swinelike amid the mire when life is over,
Leaving behind a name that men revile.
[tr. Pinsky (1994)]
How many consider themselves great kings up
above, who here will be like pigs in the mire, leaving
behind horrible dispraise of themselves!
[tr. Durling (1996)]
How many up there think themselves mighty kings, that will lie here like pigs in mire, leaving behind them dire condemnation!
[tr. Kline (2002)]
How many, in the world above, pose there
as kings but here will like like pigs in much,
leaving behind them horrible dispraise.
[tr. Kirkpatrick (2006)]
How many now above who think themselves
great kings will lie here in the mud, like swine,
leaving behind nothing but ill repute!
[tr. Hollander/Hollander (2007)]
How many think themselves the greatest of kings,
But here will lie around like pigs in slime,
Remembered for having indulged in horrible things!
[tr. Raffel (2010)]
And there are others up there of the same
Persuasion they are kings. They, too, will be
Pigs in this filthy sty, and leave behind
Nothing but curses rained upon the hole
Their swelled heads filled.
[tr. James (2013), l. 47ff]
You now can see, dear son, the short-lived pranks that goods consigned to Fortune’s hand will play, causing such squabbles in the human ranks. For all the gold that lies beneath the moon — or all that ever did lie there — would bring no respite to these worn-out souls, not one.
[Or puoi, figliuol, veder la corta buffa
d’i ben che son commessi a la fortuna,
per che l’umana gente si rabuffa;
ché tutto l’oro ch’è sotto la luna
e che già fu, di quest’anime stanche
non poterebbe farne posare una.]
Dante Alighieri (1265-1321) Italian poet The Divine Comedy [Divina Commedia], Book 1 “Inferno,” Canto 7, l. 61ff (7.61-66) [Virgil] (1309) [tr. Kirkpatrick (2006)]
(Source)
On the never-ending labor and contention between the hoarders and the wasters. (Source (Italian)). Alternate translations:
Therefore, my Son, the vanity you may Of Fortune's gifts perceive, for which Mankind Raise such a bustle, and so much contend.
Not all the Gold which is beneath the moon, Or which was by these wretched Souls possess'd, Could ever satisfy their craving minds.
[tr. Rogers (1782), l. 53ff]
Learn hence of mortal things how vain the boast, Learn to despise the low, degen'rate host, And see their wealth how poor, how mean their pride;
Not all the mines below the wand'ring moon, Not all the sun beholds at highest noon, Can for a moment bid the fray subside.
[tr. Boyd (1802), st. 11]
Now may’st thou see, my son! how brief, how vain, The goods committed into fortune’s hands, For which the human race keep such a coil!
Not all the gold, that is beneath the moon, Or ever hath been, of these toil-worn souls Might purchase rest for one.
[tr. Cary (1814)]
Now may'st thou, son, behold how brief the shuffle Of goods by shifting Fortune held in store, For which the human kind so fiercely ruffle:
Since all below the moon of golden ore That lies, or all those weary souls possessed, Could purchase none a moment's peace the more.
[tr. Dayman (1843)]
But thou, my Son, mayest [now] see the brief mockery of the goods that are committed unto Fortune, for which the human kind contend with each other. For all the gold that is beneath the moon, or ever was, could not give rest to a single one of these weary souls.
[tr. Carlyle (1849)]
Now see, my son, how frivolous and vain The goods committed unto Fortune's hand, For which the race will so rebutting stand.
Not all the gold that is beneath the moon, Nor all these toil-worn creatures have possessed, could purchase for them but a moment's rest.
[tr. Bannerman (1850)]
And now, my son, behold the folly brief of the world's goods to fortune's guidance given, And for which men so struggle and dispute.
Not all the gold that is beneath the moon, Or ever was, unto these wearied souls Could give one hour of respite or of peace.
[tr. Johnston (1867)]
Now canst thou. Son, behold the transient farce Of goods that are committed unto Fortune, For which the human race each other buffet;
For all the gold that is beneath the moon, Or ever has been, of these weary souls Could never make a single one repose.
[tr. Longfellow (1867)]
Now canst thou, my son, see the short game of the goods which are entrusted to Fortune, for which the human race buffet each other. For all the gold that is beneath the moon and that ever was, of these wearied souls could never make one of them rest.
[tr. Butler (1885)]
Now thou canst see, O son, the short-lived day Of good, committed unto Fortune's 'hest, For which the human race so strives alway.
Since all the gold beneath the moon possest, Or ever owned by those worn souls of yore, Could not make one of them one moment rest.
[tr. Minchin (1885)]
Now canst thou, son, see the brief jest of the goods that are committed unto Fortune, for which the human race so scramble; for all the gold that is beneath the moon, or that ever was, of these weary souls could not make a single one repose.
[tr. Norton (1892)]
Here mayest thou see, my son, the fleeting mockery of wealth that is the sport of Fortune, for sake of which men strive with one another. For all the gold that is, or ever hath been beneath the moon, could not procure repose for one of these weary souls.
[tr. Sullivan (1893)]
Now canst thou see, my son, how vain and short-lived Are the good things committed unto fortune, For which sake human folk set on each other.
For all the gold on which the moon now rises, Or ever rose, would be quite unavailing To set one of these weary souls at quiet.
[tr. Griffith (1908)]
Now mayst thou see, my son, the brief mockery of wealth committed to fortune, for which the race of men embroil themselves; for all the gold that is beneath the moon, or ever was, could not give rest to one of these weary souls.
[tr. Sinclair (1939)]
Now, my son, see to what a mock are brought The goods of Fortune's keeping, and how soon! Though to possess them still is all man's thought.
For all the gold that is beneath the moon, Or ever was, never could buy repose For one of those souls, faint to have that boon.
[tr. Binyon (1943)]
See now, my son, the fine and fleeting mock Of all those goods men wrangle for -- the boon That is delivered into the hand of Luck;
For all the gold that is beneath the moon, Or ever was, could not avail to buy Repose for one of these weary souls -- not one.
[tr. Sayers (1949)]
Now may you see the fleeting vanity of the goods of Fortune for which men tear down all that they are, to build a mockery.
Not all the gold that is or ever was under the sky could buy for one of these exhausted souls the fraction of a pause.
[tr. Ciardi (1954)]
Now you can see, my son, the brief mockery of the goods that are committed to Fortune, for which humankind contend with one another; because all the gold that is beneath the moon, or ever was, would not give rest to a single one of these weary souls.
[tr. Singleton (1970)]
You see, my son, the short-lived mockery of all the wealth that is in Fortune's keep, over which the human race is bickering;
for all the gold that is or ever was beneath the moon won't buy a moment's rest for even one among these weary souls.
[tr. Musa (1971)]
Now you can see, my son, how brief's the sport of all those goods that are in Fortune's care, for which the tribe of men contend and brawl;
for all the gold that is or ever was beneath the moon could never offer rest to even one of these exhausted spirits.
[tr. Mandelbaum (1980)]
Now you can see, my son, how short a life Have the gifts which are distributed by Fortune, And for which people get rough with one another:
So that all the gold there is beneath the moon And all there ever was, could never give A moment's rest to one of these tired souls.
[tr. Sisson (1981)]
Now you can see, my son, how ludicrous And brief are all the goods in Fortune's ken, Which humankind contend for: you see from this
How all the gold there is beneath the moon, Or that there ever was, could not relieve One of these weary souls.
[tr. Pinsky (1994), l. 55ff]
Now you can see, my son, the brief mockery of the goods that are committed to Fortune, for which the human race so squabbles;
for all the gold that is under the moon and that ever was, could not give rest to even one of these weary souls.
[tr. Durling (1996)]
But you, my son, can see now the vain mockery of the wealth controlled by Fortune, for which the human race fight with each other, since all the gold under the moon, that ever was, could not give peace to one of these weary souls.
[tr. Kline (2002)]
Now you see, my son, what brief mockery Fortune makes of goods we trust her with, for which the race of men embroil themselves.
All the gold that lies beneath the moon, or ever did, could never give a moment's rest to any of these wearied souls.
[tr. Hollander/Hollander (2007)]
Now see, my son, the futile mockery Of spending a life accumulating possessions, Competing with fortune and men for worthless frippery:
Take all the gold still lying under the moon, Add all that ever was and you could not buy A moment of rest for one of these souls -- not one.
[tr. Raffel (2010)]
You see it clear,
My son: the squalid fraud as brief as life
Of goods consigned to Fortune, whereupon
Cool heads come to the boil, hands to the knife.
For all the gold there is, and all that's gone,
Would give no shred of peace to even one
Of these drained souls.
[tr. James (2013), l. 56ff]
There are depths in man which go down the length of the lowest Hell, as there are heights which reach the highest Heaven; — for are not both Heaven and Hell made out of him, everlasting Miracle and Mystery that he is?
Thomas Carlyle (1795-1881) Scottish essayist and historian The French Revolution, Vol. 3, Book 1, ch. 4 (1837)
(Source)
This is often cited back to its popular attributed variant in Tryon Edwards (ed.), A Dictionary of Thoughts (1891):
There are depths in man that go to the lowest hell, and heights that reach the highest heaven, for are not both heaven and hell made out of him, everlasting miracle and mystery that he is.
Martin Luther King, Jr., used that variant in his sermon, "The Christian Doctrine of Man," Detroit Council of Churches’ Noon Lenten Services (12 Mar 1958):
And so they would cry out with Carlyle that there are depths in man which go down to the lowest hell and heights which reach the highest heaven. For are not both heaven and hell made out of Him, everlasting miracle and mystery that He is.
Ah, God’s avenging justice! who could heap up
suffering and pain as strange as I saw here?
How can we let our guilt bring us to this?
[Ahi giustizia di Dio! tante chi stipa
nove travaglie e pene quant’io viddi?
e perché nostra colpa sì ne scipa?]
Dante Alighieri (1265-1321) Italian poet The Divine Comedy [Divina Commedia], Book 1 “Inferno,” Canto 7, l. 19ff (7.19-21) (1309) [tr. Musa (1971)]
(Source)
Great is God's Justice; as increase with Crimes
Their Punishments, which here I many saw:
But why do we encourage this increase?
[tr. Rogers (1782)]
Justice of Heav'n, from thine avenging hand
What nameless toils and tortures fill the strand!
Ah! why on mortal failings so severe!
[tr. Boyd (1802), st. 4]
Almighty Justice! in what store thou heap’st
New pains, new troubles, as I here beheld!
Wherefore doth fault of ours bring us to this?
[tr. Cary (1814)]
Justice of God! who might such travail heap,
Such unimagined pangs as there I saw?
And wherefore drains our guilt the cup so deep?
[tr. Dayman (1843)]
Ah, Justice Divine! who shall tell in few the many fresh pains and travails that I saw? and why does guilt of ours thus waste us?
[tr. Carlyle (1849)]
Ah! justice of our God! how it heaps up
New troubles and new punishments I saw,
And fault of ours such penalty to draw!
[tr. Bannerman (1850)]
Oh, God's great justice! who heaps up the mass
Of pains and labors new which meet mine eye?
Why does our crime so tear and torture us?
[tr. Johnston (1867)]
Justice of God, ah! who heaps up so many
New toils and sufferings as I beheld?
And why doth our transgression waste us so?
[tr. Longfellow (1867)]
Ah justice of God! who crowds all the new labours and pains that I saw? and wherefore does our sin so bring us low?
[tr. Butler (1885)]
Justice of God! who heapeth up such store
Of novel toils and pains which I have seen!
And why doth sin in such profusion pour?
[tr. Minchin (1885)]
Ah, Justice of God! Who heapeth up so many new travails and penalties as I saw? And why doth our sin so waste us?
[tr. Norton (1892)]
Ah me! Justice of God, that heapeth up un-heard-of toils and tortures in numbers such as I beheld! And why doth man's transgression scourge man so?
[tr. Sullivan (1893)]
Justice of God! that it can pack together
Such novel pains and travails as I witnessed!
And why is our own fault thus our destruction?
[tr. Griffith (1908)]
Ah, Justice of God, who crams together
all the new toils and pains that I saw?
And why does our sin so lay us waste?
[tr. Sinclair (1939)]
Ah! Divine Justice! Who crowds throe on throe,
Toil upon toil, such as mine eyes now met?
And why doth guilt of ours consume us so?
[tr. Binyon (1943)]
God's justice! Who shall tell the agonies,
Heaped thick and new before my shuddering glance?
Why must our guilt smite us with strokes like this?
[tr. Sayers (1949)]
O Holy Justice,
who could relate the agonies I saw!
What guilt is man that he can come to this?
[tr. Ciardi (1954)]
Ah, justice of God! who crams together so many new travails and penalties as I saw? And why does our guilt so waste us?
[tr. Singleton (1970)]
Justice of God! Who has amassed as many
strange tortures and travails as I have seen?
Why do we let our guilt consume us so?
[tr. Mandelbaum (1980)]
Justice of God! Who except you could gather
As many pains and punishments as I saw?
And why is it our faults must so devour us?
[tr. Sisson (1981)]
Justice of God! Who is it hat heaps together
So much peculiar torture and travail?
How is it that we choose to sin and wither?
[tr. Pinsky (1994), ll. 17-19]
Ah, justice of God! who stuffs in so many strange
travails and punishments as I saw? and why does
our own guilt so destroy us?
[tr. Durling (1996)]
O Divine Justice! Who can tell the many new pains and troubles, that I saw, and why our guilt so destroys us?
[tr. Kline (2002)]
God in all justice! I saw there so many
new forms of travail, so tightly crammed. By whom?
How can our guilt so rend and ruin us?
[tr. Kirkpatrick (2006)]
Ah, Justice of God, who heaps up
such strange punishment and pain as I saw there?
And why do our sins so waste us?
[tr. Hollander/Hollander (2007)]
Ah, God of Justice, Who does this, scraping
Together the brand-new pains and punishments
I saw? And why should sinning cause such wastage?
[tr. Raffel (2010)]
Merciful God! Who gets it in,
This wretched harvest? What accounts for it?
And why to such pain are we led by sin?
[tr. James (2013), ll. 18-20]
“Master,” said I, “this woe — Will it grow less, or still more fiercely burning With the Great Sentence, or remain just so?”
“Go to,” said he, “hast thou forgot they learning, Which hath it: The more perfect, the more keen, Whether for pleasure’s or for pain’s discerning?
Though true perfection never can be seen In these damned souls, they’ll be more near complete After the Judgement than they yet have been.”
[Per ch’io dissi: “Maestro, esti tormenti crescerann’ei dopo la gran sentenza, o fier minori, o saran sì cocenti?”.
Ed elli a me: “Ritorna a tua scïenza, che vuol, quanto la cosa è più perfetta, più senta il bene, e così la doglienza.
Tutto che questa gente maladetta in vera perfezion già mai non vada, di là più che di qua essere aspetta”.]
Dante Alighieri (1265-1321) Italian poet The Divine Comedy [Divina Commedia], Book 1 “Inferno,” Canto 6, l. 103ff (6.103-111) (1309) [tr. Sayers (1949)]
(Source)
Virgil informs Dante that, according to the "science" of Aristotle and Thomas Aquinas, the souls of the dead, reunited with their bodies at the Last Judgment, will be more "perfect," and thus will more perfectly feel the joy of Heaven, or the torments of Hell.
Master, I said; When the grand Sentence 's pass'd,
Will an increase of punishment ensue,
Or will't continue thus, or less become.
Return to your Philosophy, he said,
By which you're taught, that the more perfect are
More sensible of good, as well as ill.
And this unhappy Crew expect not e'er
That they at true perfection shall arrive;
But that their Suff'rings will be more severe
After the dreadful Sentence than before.
[tr. Rogers (1782), l. 98ff]
Then I, "Shall equal plagues the damn'd await; Shall Hell increase her torments, or abate, When the last change their final sentence brings?"
"Let Science solve the doubt," the Bard rejoin'd, "The body married to th' immortal mind, Or higher transport feels, or fiercer woe:
Then th' ignoble brethren of the sty, When the last clarion shakes the faulted sky, Shall feel their pains sublim'd, their tortures grow."
[tr. Boyd (1802), st. 9-10]
For thus I question’d: “Shall these tortures, Sir! When the great sentence passes, be increas’d, Or mitigated, or as now severe?”
He then: “Consult thy knowledge; that decides That as each thing to more perfection grows, It feels more sensibly both good and pain.
Though ne’er to true perfection may arrive This race accurs’d, yet nearer then than now They shall approach it.”
[tr. Cary (1814)]
For thus I asked him: "Shall these torments rage, The judgment past, with fury more intense, Or such as now, or of their heat assuage?"
Who answered: "Get thee to thy wisdom, whence 'Tis taught, the creature to perfection nigher Of good and eke of ill hath keener sense.
Albeit this cursed race may ne'er aspire The true perfection of their kind to feel, Yet lower scale expect they not, but higher."
[tr. Dayman (1843)]
Wherefore I said: "Master, shall these torments increase after the great Sentence, or grow less, or remain as burning?" And he to me: "Return to they science, which has it, that the more a thing is perfect, the more it feels pleasure and likewise pain. Though these accursed people never attain to true perfection, yet they [look to] be nearer it after than before."
[tr. Carlyle (1849)]
It was the reason why I said, "Master! When the grand sentence is past, is the pain Increased or lessened, or do these remain?"
And he said to me, "What doth thy science teach? Whatever thing is perfect's more endued To feel the evil, to perceive the good:
To perfect misery will not they attain, The accursed race who suffer in this sphere, But nearer then than now they will appear."
[tr. Bannerman (1850)]
And then I said -- "These torments, master, say, Will they increase after the awful doom, Or become less? Will they be sharp as now?"
Then he to me -- "Unto thy science turn, Which teaches, the more perfect be the thing, It knows the good, it feels the suffering more.
Although this multitude accurs'd may not Unto the true perfection ever come, After, rather than now, they look for it."
[tr. Johnston (1867)]
Wherefore I said: "Master, these torments here, Will they increase after the mighty sentence, Or lesser be, or will they be as burning?"
And he to me: "Return unto thy science, Which wills, that as the thing more perfect is, The more it feels of pleasure and of pain.
Albeit that this people maledict To true perfection never can attain, Hereafter more than now they look to be."
[tr. Longfellow (1867)]
Wherefore I said: "Master, these torments, will they increase after the great sentence, or become less, or be as scorching?" And he to me: "Return to thy science, which holds, in proportion as the thing is more perfect, it is more conscious of the good, and so of suffering. Albeit this accursed folk may never go on to true perfection, it expects to be more on the further than on the hither side."
[tr. Butler (1885)]
Wherefore I said; "O master, I would know Whether these torments after the great day Will lessen, keep as now, or fiercer grow?"
And he to me: "Thy science here essay, Which wills that more a thing is perfect nursed, The more it feels both good and evil sway.
And though in truth this people, all accursed, With true perfection never can be dight, Then, more than now, it looks to feel the worst."
[tr. Minchin (1885)]
Wherefore I said, “Master, these torments will they increase after the great sentence, or will they become less, or will they be just as burning?” And he to me, “Return to thy science, which declares that the more perfect a thing is the more it feels the good, and so the pain. Though this accursed people never can attain to true perfection, it expects thereafter to be more than now.”
[tr. Norton (1892)]
Wherefore I said: "Master, these tortures, will they increase when the great doom is spoken, or will they lessen, or continue as galling as before?" And he made answer to me: "Go back upon the science thou hast read, which would have us believe that the more a thing is perfect, the more it feeleth pleasure, and likewise pain. Though these cursed souls may never come to true perfection, yet do they hope thereafter to attain it more than now."
[tr. Sullivan (1893)]
And thereupon I said: "Master, these torments, Will they increase after the last great sentence, Or lesser grow, or will they be as poignant?"
And he to me : "Return unto thy science, Which hath it that, the more a thing is perfect, More hath it sense of good, and so of dolour.
So, notwithstanding that this folk accursed Never advances unto true perfection, Yet more on that side than on this it looks for."
[tr. Griffith (1908)]
I said therefore: "Master, will these torments increase after the great judgment, or become less, or continue as fierce as now?" And he answered me, "Go back to thy science, which requires that in the measure of a creature's perfection it feels more both of pleasure and of pain. Although these people who are accursed never come to true perfection, they look to be completer then than now."
[tr. Sinclair (1939)]
Wherefore I said: "Master, these pangs of woe -- Shall they be increased after the great Assize Or stay scorching as now, or lesser grow?"
And he: "Turn to thy science and be wise. The more a thing perfected is, the more it feels bliss, and in pain the sharper sighs.
Although the state of these accurst at core Never indeed in true perfection ends, They look then to be nearer than before."
[tr. Binyon (1943)]
"Master," I said, "when the great clarion fades
into the voice of thundering Omniscience, what of these agonies? Will they be the same, or more, or less, after the final sentence?"
And he to me: "Look to your science again where it is written: the more a thing is perfect the more it feels of pleasure and of pain.
As for these souls, though they can never soar to true perfection, still in the new time they will be nearer than they were before.
[tr. Ciardi (1954), l. 99ff]
Wherefore I said, "Master, these torments, will they increase after the great Judgment, or will they grow less, or will they be just as burning as now?" And he to me, "Return to your science, which has it that the more a thing is perfect, the more it feels the good, and so the pain. Although this accursed folk can never come to true perfection, yet they look to be nearer it then than now."
[tr. Singleton (1970)]
I said, "Master, will these torments be increased, or lessened, on the final Judgment Day, or will the pain be just the same as now?"
And he: "Remember your philosophy: the closer a thing comes to its perfection more keen will be its pleasure or its pain.
Although this cursèd race of punished souls shall never know the joy of true perfection, more perfect will their pain be then than now."
[tr. Musa (1971)]
At which I said: "And after the great sentence -- o master -- will these torments grow, or else be less, or will they be just as intense?"
And he to me: "Remember now your science, which said that when a thing has more perfection, so much the great is its pain or pleasure.
Though these accursed sinners never shall attain the true perfection, yet they can expect to be more perfect then than now."
[tr. Mandelbaum (1980)]
So I said to him: "Master, will these torments Grow greater still after the great sentence, Will they be less, or burn as they burn now?"
His answer to me was: "Go back to your science, Which teaches that the more perfect a thing is, The more it feels pleasure, and pain as well.
Although these people, because they are accursed, Will never reach the point of true perfection, They expect to approach it more nearly afterwards."
[tr. Sisson (1981)]
"Master, these torments -- tell me, will they increase After the Judgment, or lessen, or merely endure, Burning as much as now?" He said, "In this,
Go back to your science, which teaches that the more A creature is perfect, the more it perceives the good -- and likewise, pain. The accursed people here
Can never come to true perfection; instead They can expect to come closer then than now."
[tr. Pinsky (1994), l. 94ff]
So I said: "Master, these torments, will they grow after the great Judgment, or will they be less, or equally hot?" And he to me: "Return to your philosophy, which teaches that the more perfect a thing is, the more it feels what is good, and the same for pain. Even though these cursed people will never enter into true perfection, on that side they can expect to have more being than on this."
[tr. Durling (1996)]
Of this I asked: "Master, will these torments increase, after the great judgement, or lessen, or stay as fierce?" And he to me: "Remember your science, that says, that the more perfect a thing is, the more it feels pleasure and pain. Though these accursed ones will never achieve true perfection, they will be nearer to it after, than before."
[tr. Kline (2002)]
Concerning which, "These torments, sir," I said, "when judgement has been finally proclaimed -- will these increase or simmer just the same?"
"Return," he said, "to your first principles: when anything (these state) becomes more perfect, then all the more it feels both good and pain.
Albeit these accursed men will not achieve perfection full and true, they still, beyond that Day, will come to sharper life."
[tr. Kirkpatrick (2006)]
"Master," I asked, "after the great Judgment will these torments be greater, less, or will they stay as harsh as they are now?"
And he replied: "Return to your science, which has it that, in measure of a thing's perfection, it feels both more of pleasure and of pain.
Although these accursèd people will never come to true perfection, they will be nearer it than they are now."
[tr. Hollander/Hollander (2007)]
And I asked: "Master these punishments, Will they grow, after the great and Final Judgment, Or lesson, or burn exactly as we've seen them?"
He answered: Go back to the rules of science, which you know Declare perfection will grow more perfect with time, And as it is in Heaven, so too below.
Although these wicked souls will never climb To Heaven, I think they may come closer, perhaps, Than they are now, in the state and place we find them."
[tr. Raffel (2010)]
Regarding that subject, I asked, "After the Final Judgment, Will the torture increase, become somewhat less, Or remain at the same level of intensity?"
He said, "Go back to your science. Remember Aristotle and Aquinas. The closer a creature is to perfection, The more it feels, both pleasure and pain.
This ruined crowd can't achieve authentic perfection But they can expect to get closer to it than they are. Which means more pain for the truly damned.
[tr. Bang (2012)]
"After the end,
What starts?" I asked. "Will all those who have earned
Their place down here feel less pain from the Day
Of Judgement on, or just the same, or more?"
And he to me: "What does your science say?
The more a thing's more perfect than before
The more it takes delight or feel despair?
Although these damned will never know a true
Perfection, they;ll be closer to it there,
Beyond that Day. So: much more than they do
Must be the answer to your question."
[tr. James (2013)]
But if my forces
are not enough, I am hardly the one to relent,
I’ll plead for the help I need, wherever it may be —
If I cannot sway the heavens, I’ll wake the powers of hell!
[Quod si mea numina non sunt
magna satis, dubitem haud equidem implorare quod usquam est:
flectere si nequeo superos, Acheronta movebo.]
Virgil (70-19 BC) Roman poet [b. Publius Vergilius Maro; also Vergil] The Aeneid [Ænē̆is], Book 7, l. 310ff (7.310-312) [Juno] (29-19 BC) [tr. Fagles (2006)]
(Source)
But if my own power not sufficient be,
Undaunted, aydes I'le seek where ere they dwell;
Will heaven not grant my sute, I'le raise up hell.
[tr. Ogilby (1649)]
If native pow'r prevail not, shall I doubt
To seek for needful succor from without?
If Jove and Heav'n my just desires deny,
Hell shall the pow'r of Heav'n and Jove supply.
[tr. Dryden (1697)]
But if my own divinity is not powerful enough, surely I need not hesitate to implore whatever deity any where subsists: if I cannot move the powers above, I will solicit those of hell.
[tr. Davidson/Buckley (1854)]
If strength like mine be yet too weak,
I care not whose the aid I seek:
What choice 'twixt under and above?
If Heaven be firm, the shades shall move.
[tr. Conington (1866)]
But if not enough my power,
I shall not pause to ask what aid I may.
And if I cannot bend the gods above,
Then Acheron I'll move.
[tr. Cranch (1872), l. 388ff]
If my deity is not great enough, I will not assuredly falter to seek succour where it may be; if the powers of heaven are inflexible, I will stir up Acheron.
[tr. Mackail (1885)]
But if of no avail
My godhead be, I will not spare to pray what is of might,
Since Heaven I move not, needs must I let loose the Nether Night.
[tr. Morris (1900), l. 310ff]
If too weak
Myself, some other godhead will I try,
And Hell shall hear, if Heaven its aid deny.
[tr. Taylor (1907), st. 42, l. 372ff]
If so weak
my own prerogative of godhead be,
let me seek strength in war, come whence it will!
If Heaven I may not move, on Hell I call.
[tr. Williams (1910)]
But if my powers be not strong enough, surely I need not be slow to seek succour wherever it may be; if Heaven I can not bend, then Hell I will arouse!
[tr. Fairclough (1918)]
So, if my power
Falls short of greatness, I must try another’s,
Seek aid where I can find it. If I cannot
Bend Heaven, I can raise Hell.
[tr. Humphries (1951)]
Well, if my powers are not great enough,
I shall not hesitate -- that's sure -- to ask help wherever
Help may be found. If the gods above are no use to me, then I'll
Move all hell.
[tr. Day-Lewis (1952)]
If my power
is not enough, I shall not hesitate
to plead for more, from anywhere; if I
cannot bend High Ones, then I shall move hell.
[tr. Mandelbaum (1971), l. 410ff]
Well, if my powers fall short,
I need not falter over asking help
Wherever help may lie. If I can sway
No heavenly hearts I'll rouse the world below.
[tr. Fitzgerald (1981), l. 423ff]
But if my own resources as a goddess are not enough, I am not the one to hesitate. I shall appeal to whatever powers there are. If I cannot prevail upon the gods above, I shall move hell.
[tr. West (1990)]
But if my divine strength is not
enough, I won’t hesitate to seek help wherever it might be:
if I cannot sway the gods, I’ll stir the Acheron.
[tr. Kline (2002)]
But if my powers
Are not great enough, why should I hesitate
To seek help from any source whatever?
If I cannot sway Heaven, I will awaken Hell!
[tr. Lombardo (2005)]
If I cannot bend the gods, I will move Acheron.
[tr. @sentantiq (2012)]
If my powers aren't enough, why not stoop to begging anyone? If I can't move the gods above, then I'll move Acheron.
[tr. Bartsch (2021)]
If I cannot bend Heaven, I shall move Hell.
[Bartlett's]
Gustave Dore – Divine Comedy, Plate 14, Inferno, Canto 5 “The infernal hurricane that never rests” (1857)
And this, I learned, was the never ending flight of those who sinned in the flesh, the carnal and lusty who betrayed reason to their appetite.
As the wings of wintering starlings bear them on in their great wheeling flights, just so the blast wherries these evil souls through time foregone.
Here, there, up, down, they whirl, and whirling, strain with never a hope of hope to comfort them, not of release, but even of less pain.
[Intesi ch’a così fatto tormento enno dannati i peccator carnali, che la ragion sommettono al talento.
E come li stornei ne portan l’ali nel freddo tempo, a schiera larga e piena, così quel fiato li spiriti mali
di qua, di là, di giù, di sù li mena; nulla speranza li conforta mai, non che di posa, ma di minor pena.]
Dante Alighieri (1265-1321) Italian poet The Divine Comedy [Divina Commedia], Book 1 “Inferno,” Canto 5, l. 37ff (5.37-45) (1309) [tr. Ciardi (1954)]
(Source)
Those who such torments suffered, I learnt, Were condemn'd to them for their carnal Sins, Their reason by their Passion being subdued.
And as the Birds, who at the first approach Of cold, take wing, and gather in thick clouds, So does the Storm these wretched Spirits drive,
From 'bove, below, and ev'ry side around. They have no hope of ever being releas'd: And e'en of lighter punishments despair.
[tr. Rogers (1782), l. 32ff]
These were the hapless slaves of lawless love,
Soft pleasure's vot'ries in the world above,
Who the still voice of reason held in scorn;
And as a flight of starlings wing their way,
Riding the wintry blast in long array, The phantoms fleet, in airy tumult borne.
Aloft we saw the moody revel ride,
Then, in long eddies, like the swallowing tide,
With its full freight the hurricane descends:
Around the sinner sweep, above, below,
Nor respite of their cares rest they, nor refuge know From the resistless storm that never ends.
[tr. Boyd (1802), st. 8-9]
I understood that to this torment sad The carnal sinners are condemn'd, in whom Reason by lust is sway'd. As in large troops
And multitudinous, when winter reigns, The starlings on their wings are borne abroad; So bears the tyrannous gust those evil souls.
On this side and on that, above, below, It drives them: hope of rest to solace them Is none, nor e'en of milder pang.
[tr. Cary (1814)]
Then understood I of that woe's intent, How framed with sinners in the flesh to deal Who to their passion have their reason bent.
And like as starlings in their aery wheel Some winter's day float wide upon the wing. So doth those guilty souls the whirlwind's reel
Now up, now down, now this, now that way fling; Nor aught to comfort them may soothing hope. If not of rest, of milder sufferance bring.
[tr. Dayman (1843)]
I learnt that to such torment [are] doomed the carnal sinners, who subject reason to lust. And as their wings bear along the starlings, at the cold season, in large and crowded troop: so that blast, the evil spirits; hither, thither, down, up, it leads them. No hope ever comforts them, not of rest, but even of less pain.
[tr. Carlyle (1849)]
Of torment such as this, I understood, Were carnal sinners made to drink their fill, Their reason who subject unto their will.
And as the starlings spread their wings aloft In the cold time, in long and crowded flock, Such are the evil spirits to the shock:
From here to there, from low to high, it leads; Nor hope nor comfort in their breast remain, Not of a pause, but even of lesser pain.
[tr. Bannerman (1850)]
Then I perceiv'd this torment was to those Whose condemnation was for carnal sins, Who made their reason subject to their lusts.
As starlings in their wingèd strength are borne In winter season, flocking wide and deep; So are the wicked spirits by this blast
Upwards and downwards, hither, thither swept, Having to comfort them of no hope of rest From their great woe, nor e'en of lesser pain.
[tr. Johnston (1867)]
I understood that unto such a torment The carnal malefactors were condemned, Who reason subjugate to appetite.
And as the wings of starlings bear them on In the cold season in large band and full, So doth that blast the spirits maledict;
It hither, thither, downward, upward, drives them; No hope doth comfort them forevermore, Not of repose, but even of lesser pain.
[tr. Longfellow (1867)]
I was aware that to a torment thus fashioned are condemned the carnal sinners who made their reason subject to their inclination. And as their wings bear away the starlings in the cold season, in a broad and thick flock, so did that blast the evil spirits. On this side, on that, up and down it sways them; no hope ever comforts them, I say not of rest, but of a lesser penalty.
[tr. Butler (1885)]
Then did I understand that this was pain Reserved for those who sin in carnal things, And over reason their desires maintain.
And, like the summer starlings, stretch their wings In the cold time, in large and ample train, So that wild wind those evil spirits swings
Hither and thither, up and down again; No hope can comfort them of far repose For evermore, nor even of lesser pain.
[tr. Minchin (1885)]
I understood that to such torment are condemned the carnal sinners who subject reason to appetite. And as their wings bear along the starlings in the cold season in a troop large and full, so that blast the evil spirits; hither, thither, down, up it carries them; no hope ever comforts them, not of repose, but even of less pain.
[tr. Norton (1892)]
I came to know that to tortures of such a kind were doomed sinners in the flesh, who make their better judg- ment the thrall of lust. And as in winter time starlings are borne on their wings, in large and crowded flock; even so beareth this blast these sinful spirits. Hither and thither, high and low, it whirleth them, nor ever cometh hope of any rest to cheer them, nor even of lesser punishment.
[tr. Sullivan (1893)]
I understood that unto such like torment Are damned eternally the carnal sinners. Who make their reason subject to their passions.
And as their pinions bear along the starlings, In the chill time, in wide and full battahon, In such wise doth that blast the wicked spirits:
Hither and thither, up and down, it bears them; Nor any hope encourages them ever. Not to say hope of rest, but of less torment.
[tr. Griffith (1908)]
I learned that to such torment are condemned the carnal sinners who subject reason to desire. As in the cold season their wings bear the starlings along in a broad, dense flock, so does that blast the wicked spirits. Hither, thither, downward, upward, it drives them; no hope ever comforts them, not to say of rest, but of less pain.
[tr. Sinclair (1939)]
I learnt that in such restless violence blown This punishment the carnal sinners share Whose reason by desire was over thrown.
And as their beating wings the starlings bear At the cold season, in broad, flocking flight, So those corrupted spirits were rapt in air
To and fro, down, up, driven in helpless plight Comforted by no hope ever to lie At rest, nor even to bear a pain more light.
[tr. Binyon (1943)]
Into this torment carnal sinners are thrust, So I was told -- the sinners who make their reason Bond thrall under the yoke of their lust.
Like as the starlings wheel in the wintry season In wide and clustering flocks wing-borne, wind-borne, Even so they go, the souls who did this treason,
Hither and thither, and up and down, outworn, Hopeless of any rest -- rest, did I say? Of the least minishing of their pangs forlorn.
[tr. Sayers (1949)]
I learned that to such torment are condemned the carnal sinners, who subject reason to desire. And as their wings bear the starlings along in the cold season, in wide, dense flocks, so does that blast the sinful spirits; hither, thither, downward, upward, it drives them. No hope of less pain, not to say of rest, ever comforts them.
[tr. Singleton (1970)]
I learned that to this place of punishment all those who sin in lust have been condemned, those who make reason slave to appetite;
and as the wings of starlings in the winter bear them along in wide-spread crowded flocks, so does that wind propel the evil spirits:
here, then there, and up and down, it sweeps them forever, without hope to comfort them (hope, not of taking rest, but of suffering less).
[tr. Musa (1971)]
I learned that those who undergo this torment are damned because they sinned within the flesh, subjecting reason to the rule of lust.
And as, in the cold season, starlings' wings bear them along in broad and crowded ranks, so does that blast bear on the guilty spirits:
now here, now there, now down, now up, it drives them. There is no hope that ever comforts them -- no hope for rest and none for lesser pain.
[tr. Mandelbaum (1980)]
I understood it is to this torment That are condemned those who sin in the flesh, And let their reason give way to their wishes.
And, as starlings are carried on their wings In the cold weather, in a vast wavering troop, So that breath carries the unfortunate spirits:
It drives them here and there, now down, now up; There is no hope ever to comfort them; They cannot stop, or ever suffer less pain.
[tr. Sisson (1981)]
I learned They suffer here who sinned in carnal things -- Their reason mastered by desire, suborned.
As winter starlings ride on their wings Form crowded flocks, so spirits dip and veer Foundering in the wind's rough buffetings,
Upward or downward, driven here and there With never ease from pain nor hope of rest.
[tr. Pinsky (1994), l. 34ff]
I understood that to this torment were damned the carnal sinners, who subject their reason to their lust. nd as their wings carry off the starlings in the cold season, in large, full flocks, so does that breath carry the evil spirits here, there, down, up; no hope ever comforts them, not of lessened suffering, much less of rest.
[tr. Durling (1996)]
I learnt that the carnal sinners are condemned to these torments, they who subject their reason to their lust. And, as their wings carry the starlings, in a vast, crowded flock, in the cold season, so that wind carries the wicked spirits, and leads them here and there, and up and down. No hope of rest, or even lesser torment, comforts them.
[tr. Kline (2002)]
And then I learned such torments are incurred by those who like to practice carnal sin, when reason is by furtive lust ensnared.
As starlings, when the evenings draw in, assemble in tremendous seething flocks, so are those dark souls gathered by the wind,
and hurtled to and fro in random flecks devoid of hope of rest, or rest from pain to which they are eternally affixed.
[tr. Carson (2002)]
Caught in this torment, as I understood, were those who -- here condemned for carnal sin -- made reason bow to their instinctual bent.
As starlings on the wing in winter chills are borne along in wide and teeming flocks, so on these breathing gusts the evil souls.
This way and that and up and down they're borne. Here is no hope of any comfort ever, neither of respite nor of lesser pain.
[tr. Kirkpatrick (2006)]
I understood that to such torment the carnal sinners are condemned, they who make reason subject to desire.
As, in cold weather, the wings of starlings bear them up in wide, dense flocks, so does that blast propel the wicked spirits.
Here and there, down and up, it drives them. Never are they comforted by hope of rest or even lesser punishment.
[tr. Hollander/Hollander (2007)]
I learned that sinners blown, tormented in bursting Gales, are those condemned by acts of lust, Which melt our reason down in desire and thirst.
Just as their wings, stretched wide, hold starlings up In great, wide flocks fleeing freezing weather, So those windstorms force the wicked souls
This way, that way, down and up together. No hope can ever ease their pain, giver comfort; They never rest, never suffer less.
[tr. Raffel (2010)]
I learned this special kind of torment is reserved For those whose ravenous appetite for carnal knowledge Allowed lust to triumph over reason.
Like wings carry starlings off in crowded flocks When the end of October hints at winter, so the wind Carried these sinners: up, down, and at an angle.
In broad and compact masses. What is there to comfort them? Neither more peace Nor less pain, although they beg for both.
[tr. Bang (2012)]
I understood this was the punishment
For carnal sinners, who let appetite
Rule reason, and who, once drawn, are now sent --
Like winter starlings by their wings in flight --
Across the bleak sky in a broad, thick flock:
Here, there, now up, now down, the winds dictate
Their track. Small hope of pausing to take stock
Of whether anguish might not soon abate
At least a little, and no hope at all
Of peace.
[tr. James (2013), l. 47ff]
In despair
they blasphemed God, their parents, their time on earth, the race of Adam, and the day and the hour and the place and the seed and the womb that gave them birth.
But all together they drew to that grim shore where all must come who lose the fear of God. Weeping and cursing they come for evermore.
[Bestemmiavano Dio e lor parenti, l’umana spezie e ’l loco e ’l tempo e ’l seme di lor semenza e di lor nascimenti.
Poi si ritrasser tutte quante insieme, forte piangendo, a la riva malvagia ch’attende ciascun uom che Dio non teme.]
Dante Alighieri (1265-1321) Italian poet The Divine Comedy [Divina Commedia], Book 1 “Inferno,” Canto 3, l. 103ff (3.103-108) (1309) [tr. Ciardi (1954), l. 100ff]
(Source)
The damned at Charon's boat, waiting to cross the Acheron. (Source (Italian)). Alternate translations:
God and their parents they alike blasphem'd,
Cursing all human kind, the time, the seed
From when they sprang, and of their birth the place.
They crouded then, with horrid yells and loud,
Close to the cursed shore of bliss devoid:
Where ev'ry Mortal waits who fears not God.
[tr. Rogers (1782), l. 87ff]
Loud they began to curse their natal star,
Their parent-clime, their lineage, and their God; Then to the ferry took the downward road With lamentable cries of loud despair.
Then o'er the fatal flood, in horror hung
Collected, stood the Heav'abandon'd throng.
[tr. Boyd (1802), st. 22-23]
God and their parents they blasphem'd,
The human kind, the place, the time, and seed
That did engender them and give them birth.
Then all together sorely wailing drew
To the curs'd strand, that every man must pass
Who fears not God.
[tr. Cary (1814)]
God they blasphemed, their parents and their kind, The place, the time, the seed prolifical, That embryo sowed them, and to life consigned.
Then wailing loud, their troop they gathered all, And back recoiled them to the baleful verge, Ordained to men from godliness who fall.
[tr. Dayman (1843)]
They blasphemed God and their parents; the human kind; the place, the time, and origin of their seed, and of their birth. Then all of them together, sorely weeping, drew to the accursed shore, which awaits every man that fears not God.
[tr. Carlyle (1849)]
Blasphemed their God, their parents, human kind;
The time when, the hour, the natal earth,
The seed of their begetting, and their birth.
Then all withdrew, who there together were,
Loudly lamenting, to the wicked shore,
Awaiting those who feared not God before.
[tr. Bannerman (1850)]
God they blasphem'd, their parents they blasphem'd, The human race, the place, the time, the seed Of their conception and nativity.
Then by one impulse driv'n they onwards rush'd With bitter weeping to th' accursèd shore; The doom of all who have not God in fear.
[tr. Johnston (1867)]
God they blasphemed and their progenitors, The human race, the place, the time, the seed Of their engendering and of their birth!
Thereafter all together they drew back, Bitterly weeping, to the accursed shore, Which waiteth every man who fears not God.
[tr. Longfellow (1867)]
They fell to blaspheming God and their parents, the human kind, the place, the time, and the seed of their begetting and of their birth. Then they dragged them all together, wailing loud, to the baleful bank, which awaits every man that fears not God.
[tr. Butler (1885)]
They cursed at God and at their parentage, The human race, the place, the time, the seed Of their begetting, and their earliest age.
Then all of them together on proceed. Wailing aloud, to the evil bank that stays For every one of God who takes no heed.
[tr. Minchin (1885)]
They blasphemed God and their parents, the human race, the place, the time and the seed of their sowing and of their birth. Then, bitterly weeping, they drew back all of them together to the evil bank, that waits for every man who fears not God.
[tr. Norton (1892)]
They fell to blaspheming God and their parents, the human race, the place, the time, the seed of their sowing and of their births. Then in all their thronging crowds, the while they loudly wailed, they gathered them back together to the accursed shore, that awaiteth everyone that hath no fear of God.
[tr. Sullivan (1893)]
Blasphemed they God himself and their own parents. The human race, the place, the time, the sowing O' the seed they sprang from, and their own beginnings.
Then they retreated, one and all together, Bitterly weeping, to the brink accursèd Which for all men who fear not God is waiting.
[tr. Griffith (1908)]
They blasphemed God and their parents, the human kind, the place, the time, and the seed of their begetting and of their birth, then, weeping bitterly, they drew all together to the accursed shore which awaits every man that fears not God.
[tr. Sinclair (1939)]
They blasphemed God, blasphemed their mother's womb, The human kind, the place, the time, the seed Of their engendering, and their birth and doom;
Then weeping all together in their sad need Betook themselves to the accursed shore Which awaits each who of God takes no heed.
[tr. Binyon (1943)]
God they blaspheme, blaspheme their parents' bed, The human race, the place, the time, the blood The seed that got them, and the womb that bred;
Then, huddling hugger-mugger, down they scud, Dismally wailing, to the accursed strand Which waits for every man that fears not God.
[tr. Sayers (1949)]
They cursed God, their parents, the human race, the place, the time, the seed of their begetting and of their birth. Then, weeping loudly, all drew to the evil shore that awaits every man who fears not God.
[tr. Singleton (1970)]
They were cursing God, cursing their mother and father, the human race, and the time, the place, the seed of their beginning, and their day of birth.
Then all together, weeping bitterly, they packed themselves along the wicked shore that waits for everyman who fears not God.
[tr. Musa (1971)]
They execrated God and their own parents and humankind, and then the place and time of their conception's seed and of their birth.
Then they forgathered, huddled in one throng, weeping aloud along that wretched shore which waits for all who have no fear of God.
[tr. Mandelbaum (1980)]
Then they blasphemed God and cursed their parents, The human race, the place and time, the seed, The land that it was sown in, and their birth.
And then they gatehred, all of them together, Weeping aloud, upon the evil shore Which awaits every man who does not fear God.
[tr. Sisson (1981)]
... cursing the human race,
God and their parents. Teeth chattering in their skulls, They called curses on the seed, the place, the hour Of their own begetting and their birth. With wails
And tears they gaterhed on the evil shore That waits for all who don't fear God.
[tr. Pinsky (1994)]
They cursed God and their parents, the human race and the place and the time and the seed of their sowing and of their birth. Then all of them together, weeping loudly, drew near the evil shore that awaits each one who does not fear God.
[tr. Durling (1996)]
They blasphemed against God, and their parents, the human species, the place, time, and seed of their conception, and of their birth. Then, all together, weeping bitterly, they neared the cursed shore that waits for every one who has no fear of God.
[tr. Kline (2002)]
And they cursed God, and cursed the human race; they cursed their parents=, and their kith and kin; they cursed their birth; they cursed its time and place.
Weeping and gnashing their teeth they all drew in to that accursèd shore, which is the ate of everyone who brings his soul to ruin.
[tr. Carson (2002)]
They raged, blaspheming God and their own kin, the human race, the place and time, the seed from which they'd sprung, the day that they'd been born.
And then they came together all as one, wailing aloud along the evil margin that waits for all who have no fear of God.
[tr. Kirkpatrick (2006)]
They blasphemed God, their parents, the human race, the place, the time, the seed of their begetting and their birth.
Then weeping bitterly, they drew together to the accursèd shore that waits for every man who fears not God.
[tr. Hollander/Hollander (2007)]
They cursed at God, the human race, their parents, The place where they'd been born, and the time, and the seed That gave them life and brought about their birth.
Then they crowded, all of them loudly weeping, Down to the cursed, ever-barren shore That waits for men who live as if God were sleeping.
[tr. Raffel (2010)]
They cursed their parents, God, the human race,
The time, the temperature, their place of birth,
Their mother's father's brother's stupid face,
And everything of worth or nothing worth
That they could think of. Then they squeezed up tight
Together, sobbing, on the ragged edge
That waits for all who hold God in despite.
[tr. James (2013), l. 136ff]
No, not if I had a hundred tongues and a hundred mouths
and a voice of iron too — I could never capture
all the crimes or run through all the torments,
doom by doom.
[Non, mihi si linguae centum sunt oraque centum
Ferrea vox, omnis scelerum comprendere formas,
Omnia poenarum percurrere nomina possim.]
Virgil (70-19 BC) Roman poet [b. Publius Vergilius Maro; also Vergil] The Aeneid [Ænē̆is], Book 6, l. 625ff (6.625-627) [The Sybil] (29-19 BC) [tr. Fagles (2006), l. 724ff]
(Source)
The punishments in Tartarus. Virgil uses a similar metaphor in Georgics 2.43.
Had I a hundred mouths, as many tongues,
A voice of iron, to these had brazen lungs;
Their crimes and tortures ne're could be displaid.
[tr. Ogilby (1649)]
Had I a hundred mouths, a hundred tongues,
And throats of brass, inspired with iron lungs,
I could not half those horrid crimes repeat,
Nor half the punishments those crimes have met.
[tr. Dryden (1697)]
Had I a hundred tongues, and a hundred mouths, and a voice of iron, I could not comprehend all the species of their crimes, nor enumerate the names of all their punishments.
[tr. Davidson/Buckley (1854)]
No -- had I e'en a hundred tongues
A hundred mouths, and iron lungs,
Those types of guilt I could not show,
Nor tell the forms of penal woe.
[tr. Conington (1866)]
Not if I had a hundred tongues, a voice
Of iron, could I tell thee all the forms
Of guilt, or number all their penalties.
[tr. Cranch (1872), l. 780ff]
Not had I an hundred tongues, an hundred mouths, and a voice of iron, could I sum up all the shapes of crime or name over all their punishments.
[tr. Mackail (1885)]
Nor, had I now an hundred mouths, an hundred tongues at need,
An iron voice, might I tell o'er all guise of evil deed,
Or run adown the names of woe those evil deeds are worth.
[tr. Morris (1900)]
Ne'er had a hundred mouths, if such were mine,
Nor hundred tongues their endless sins declared,
Nor iron voice their torments could define,
Or tell what doom to each the avenging gods assign.
[tr. Taylor (1907), st. 83, l. 744ff]
&I could not tell,
Not with a hundred mouths, a hundred tongues,
Or iron voice, their divers shapes of sin,
Nor call by name the myriad pangs they bear.
[tr. Williams (1910)]
Nay, had I a hundred tongues, a hundred mouths, and voice of iron, I could not sum up all the forms of crime, or rehearse all the tale of torments.
[tr. Fairclough (1916)]
If I had a hundred tongues,
A hundred iron throats, I could not tell
The fullness of their crime and punishment.
[tr. Humphries (1951)]
No, not if I had a hundred tongues, a hundred mouths
And a voice of iron, could I describe all the shapes of wickedness,
Catalogue all the retributions inflicted here.
[tr. Day-Lewis (1952)]
A hundred tongues,
a hundred mouths, an iron voice were not
enough for me to gather all the forms
of crime or tell the names of all the torments.
[tr. Mandelbaum (1971), l. 829ff]
If I had
A hundred tongues, a hundred mouths, a voice
Of iron, I could not tell of all the shapes
Their crimes had taken, or their punishments.
[tr. Fitzgerald (1981)]
If I had a hundred tongues, a hundred mouths and a voice of iron, I could not encompass all their different crimes or speak the names of all their different punishments.
[tr. West (1990)]
Not if I had a hundred tongues, a hundred mouths,
a voice of iron, could I tell all the forms of wickedness
or spell out the names of every torment.
[tr. Kline (2002)]
Not if I had a hundred mouths, a hundred tongues,
And a voice of iron, could I recount
All the crimes or tell all their punishments.
[tr. Lombardo (2005)]
A hundred tongues and mouths, an iron voice, wouldn't let me cover the varieties of evil, nor all the names for punishments.
[tr. Bartsch (2021)]
There, steering toward us in an ancient ferry came an old man with a white bush of hair, bellowing: “Woe to you depraved souls! Bury
here and forever all hope of Paradise: I come to lead you to the other shore, into eternal dark, into fire and ice.”
[Ed ecco verso noi venir per nave un vecchio, bianco per antico pelo, gridando: “Guai a voi, anime prave!
Non isperate mai veder lo cielo: i’ vegno per menarvi a l’altra riva ne le tenebre etterne, in caldo e ’n gelo.]
Dante Alighieri (1265-1321) Italian poet The Divine Comedy [Divina Commedia], Book 1 “Inferno,” Canto 3, l. 82ff (3.82-87) [Charon] (1309) [tr. Ciardi (1954), l. 79ff]
(Source)
Lo, rowing tow'rds us was one white with age,
And bawling out, "woe do you Souls deprav'd, Heaven expects you not e'er more to see; I come to waft you to another coast, Where are eternal Darkness, Heat, and Frost."
[tr. Rogers (1782), l. 68ff]
Far off exclaim'd the grizzly mariner,
"Hither, ye Denizens of Hell, repair! The Stygian barque her wonted load requires;
For you diurnal stars beignant beam,
Prepare ye now to feel the fierce extreme Of frost corrosive, and outrageous fire."
[tr. Boyd (1802), st. 19]
And lo! toward us in a bark
Comes on an old man hoary white with eld,
Crying, "Woe to you wicked spirits! hope not
Ever to see the sky again. I come
To take you to the other shore across,
Into eternal darkness, there to dwell
In fierce heat and in ice.
[tr. Cary (1814)]
When lo! to meet us came An ancient boatman, hoar with many a year. Crying, "Woe to you, souls of evil name!
Ne'er hope to see the bright celestial sphere: I come to waft you to another shore, Where, cold or heat, still endless night is near.
[tr. Dayman (1843)]
And lo! an old man, white with ancient hair, comes towards us in a bark, shouting, "Woe to you, depraved spirits! hope not ever to see Heaven: I come to lead you to the other shore; into the eternal darkness; into fire and into ice."
[tr. Carlyle (1849)]
And lo! towards us came one in a bark,
Whose head with hoar antiquity was white,
Cried, "Wow! Ye wicked souls, no more for heaven,
I come to lead you to yon other hold --
Darkness eternal, and to hot and cold!
[tr. Bannerman (1850)]
And lo! towards us in a bark approach'd An aged man and white with hoary hair Crying -- "Woe, woe to you, ye wicked souls!
Hope not that you can ever Heaven behold; I come to guide you to the other shore, To night eternal, endless cold and heat.
[tr. Johnston (1867), l. 92ff]
And lo! towards us coming in a boat An old man, hoary with the hair of eld, Crying: "Woe unto you, ye souls depraved!
Hope nevermore to look upon the heavens; I come to lead you to the other shore, To the eternal shades in heat and frost."
[tr. Longfellow (1867)]
And behold came towards us in a boat an old man white by reason of ancient hair, crying, ‘Woe to you, perverse souls! Hope not again to see the sky; I come to bring you to the other bank, among the eternal gloom, to heat and to cold."
[tr. Butler (1885)]
When lo! upon a bark there towards us came A very old man, with age-whitened hair. Crying aloud, "Ah, woe, ye souls of shame!
Hope not again to see the sky so fair. I come to take ye to the other side. To shades eterne of heat and freezing there."
[tr. Minchin (1885)]
And lo! coming toward us in a boat, an old man, white with ancient hair, crying, “Woe to you, wicked souls! hope not ever to see Heaven! I come to carry you to the other bank, into eternal darkness, to heat and frost.
[tr. Norton (1892)]
And lo! an old man, hoary with ancient locks, draweth towards us in a boat, crying out: "Curse on you, sinful souls! Never hope to see the sky! I am coming to ferry you to the other shore, into the darkness that is for ever, into flame and into frost."
[tr. Sullivan (1893)]
And lo! towards us coming in a vessel An old man, whom his ancient locks made hoary, Crying out : "Woe to you, ye souls unrighteous;
Cherish not hope of ever seeing heaven; Unto the other bank I come to take you, To heat and frost, in the eternal darkness."
[tr. Griffith (1908)]
And lo, coming towards us in a boat, an old man, his hair white with age, crying: "Woe to you, wicked souls, hope not ever to see the sky. I am come to bring you to the other bank, into the eternal shades, into fire and frost."
[tr. Sinclair (1939)]
And toward us lo! arriving in a boat An Ancient, white with hair upon him old, Crying, "Woe to you, ye spirits misbegot!
Hope not that heaven ye ever shall behold. I come to carry you to yon shore, and lead Into the eternal darkness, heat and cold."
[tr. Binyon (1943)]
When from the far bank lo! A boat shot forth, whose white-haired boatman old Bawled as he came: "Woe to the wicked! Woe!
Never you hope to look on Heaven -- behold! I come to ferry you hence across the tide To endless night, fierce fires and shramming cold."
[tr. Sayers (1949)]
And behold, an old man, his hair white with age, coming towards us in a boat and shouting, "Woe to you, wicked souls! Do not hope to see Heaven ever! I come to carry you to the other shore, into eternal darkness, into fire and cold."
[tr. Singleton (1970)]
And suddenly, coming towards us in a boat, a man of years who ancient hair was white screamed at us, "Woe to you, perverted souls!
Give up all hope of every seeing heaven: I come to lead you to the other shore, into eternal darkness, ice and fire."
[tr. Musa (1971)]
And here, advancing toward us, in a boat, an aged man -- his hair was white with years -- was shouting: "Woe to you, corrupted souls!
Forget your hope of ever seeing Heaven: I come to lead you to the other shore, to the eternal dark, to fire and frost."
[tr. Mandelbaum (1980)]
And then, there came towards us in a boat An old man who was white with brittle hair, Calling out: "Woe to you, perverse spirits!
You need not hope that you will ever see heaven; I have come to take you to the other side, Into eternal darkness, fire and ice."
[tr. Sisson (1981)]
Then, at the river -- an old man in a boat: White-haired, as he drew closer, shouting at us, "Woe to you, wicked souls! Give up the thought
Of Heaven! I come to ferry you across Into eternal dark on the opposite side, Into fire and ice!"
[tr. Pinsky (1994), l. 67ff]
And behold coming toward us in a boat an old man, white with the hairs of age, crying, "Woe to you, wicked souls! Never hope to see the sky: I come to lead you to the other shore, to the eternal shadows, to heat and freezing."
[tr. Durling (1996)]
And see, an old man, with white hoary locks, came towards us in a boat, shouting: "Woe to you, wicked spirits! Never hope to see heaven: I come to carry you to the other shore, into eternal darkness, into fire and ice."
[tr. Kline (2002)]
Then lo! as we approached the place, a boat materialized, manned by a hoary boatman. "Woe to ye!" he roared, "abandon hope!
I come to lead you to the dark dominion of the other shore: into eternal shades of ice and fire, where no pain is forgotten."
[tr. Carson (2002)]
Look now! Towards us in a boat there came an old man, yelling, hair all white and aged, "Degenerates! Your fate is sealed! Cry woe!
Don't hope you'll ever see the skies again! I'm here to lead you to the farther shore, into eternal shadow, heat and chill."
[tr. Kirkpatrick (2006)]
And now, coming toward us in a boat, an old man, his hair white with age, cried out: "Woe unto you, you wicked souls,
give up all hope of ever seeing Heaven. I come to take you to the other shore, into eternal darkness, into heat and chill."
[tr. Hollander/Hollander (2007)]
And suddenly a boat, and an old man in it, Came gliding through the misty air, approaching The shore. "Ah!" he shouted, "All you wicked
Souls! Don't wish for a Heaven you have no hope Of ever seeing! I'm here to take you over The river, to eternal darkness, to fire and cold."
[tr. Raffel (2010)]
Where suddenly an old man in a boat
Headed towards us, tossing his white hair
As he cried, "Woe to you and to your souls!
Give up your hopes of Heaven! I have come
To take you to the other side. Hot coals
And ice await, to brand you and benumb
In everlasting shadow."
[tr. James (2013), l. 114ff]
Charon is here,
The guardian of these mingling waters, Charon,
Uncouth and filthy, on whose chin the hair
Is a tangled mat, whose eyes protrude, are burning,
Whose dirty cloak is knotted at the shoulder.
He poles a boat, tends to the sail, unaided,
Ferrying bodies in his rust-hued vessel.
Old, but a god’s senility is awful
In its raw greenness.
[Portitor has horrendus aquas et flumina servat
terribili squalore Charon, cui plurima mento
canities inculta iacet; stant lumina flamma,
sordidus ex umeris nodo dependet amictus.
Ipse ratem conto subigit, velisque ministrat,
et ferruginea subvectat corpora cymba,
iam senior, sed cruda deo viridisque senectus.]
Virgil (70-19 BC) Roman poet [b. Publius Vergilius Maro; also Vergil] The Aeneid [Ænē̆is], Book 6, l. 298ff (6.298-304) (29-19 BC) [tr. Humphries (1951)]
(Source)
Charon the horrid ferry-man these deeps,
With dreadful squallidnesse, and river keeps.
His untrim'd cheeks were rough with hoary hair,
Knotty his beard, his fiery eyes did stare,
Tye'd on his shoulders hung a sordid coat;
He trims his sails, drives with a pole his boat,
And in his rusty bark wafts Passengers;
The God was youthful still, though struck in years.
[tr. Ogilby (1649)]
There Charon stands, who rules the dreary coast --
A sordid god: down from his hoary chin
A length of beard descends, uncomb'd, unclean;
His eyes, like hollow furnaces on fire;
A girdle, foul with grease, binds his obscene attire.
He spreads his canvas; with his pole he steers;
The freights of flitting ghosts in his thin bottom bears.
He look'd in years; yet in his years were seen
A youthful vigor and autumnal green.
[tr. Dryden (1697)]
A grim ferryman guards these floods and rivers, Charon, of frightful slovenliness; on whose chin a load of grey hair neglected lies; his eyes are flame: his vestments hang from his shoulders by a knot, with filth overgrown. Himself thrust on the barge with a pole, and tends the sails, and wafts over the bodies in his iron-coloured boat, now in years: but the god is of fresh and green old age.
[tr. Davidson/Buckley (1854)]
Grim, squalid, foul, with aspect dire,
His eye-balls each a globe of fire,
The watery passage Charon keeps,
Sole warden of those murky deeps:
A sordid mantle round him thrown
Girds breast and shoulder like a zone.
He plies the pole with dexterous ease,
Or sets the sail to catch the breeze,
Ferrying the legions of the dead
In bark of dusky iron-red,
Now marked with age; but heavenly powers
Have fresher, greener eld than ours.
[tr. Conington (1866)]
By these dread rivers waits the ferryman
Squalid and grim, Charon, his grisly beard
Uncombed and thick ; his eyes are flaming lamps;
A filthy garment from his shoulders hangs.
He tends his sails, and with his pole propels
His barge of dusky iron hue, that bears
The dead across the river. Old he seems,
But with a green old age.
[tr. Cranch (1872)]
Charon, the dread ferryman, guards these flowing streams, ragged and awful, his chin covered with untrimmed masses of hoary hair, and his glassy eyes aflame; his soiled raiment hangs knotted from his shoulders. Himself he plies the pole and trims the sails of his vessel, the steel-blue galley with freight of dead; stricken now in years, but a god's old age is lusty and green.
[tr. Mackail (1885)]
This flood and river's ferrying doth Charon take in hand,
Dread in his squalor: on his chin untrimmed the hoar hair lies
Most plenteous; and unchanging flame bides in his staring eyes:
Down from his shoulders hangs his gear in filthy knot upknit;
And he himself poles on his ship, and tends the sails of it,
And crawls with load of bodies lost in bark all iron-grey,
Grown old by now: but fresh and green is godhead's latter day.
[tr. Morris (1900), l. 298ff]
Charon there,
Grim ferryman, stands sentry. Mean his guise,
His chin a wilderness of hoary hair,
And like a flaming furnace stare his eyes.
Hung in a loop around his shoulders lies
A filthy gaberdine. He trims the sail,
And, pole in hand, across the water plies
His steel-grey shallop with the corpses pale,
Old, but a god's old age has left him green and hale.
[tr. Taylor (1907), st. 41, l. 361ff]
A ferryman of gruesome guise keeps ward
Upon these waters, -- Charon, foully garbed,
With unkempt, thick gray beard upon his chin,
And staring eyes of flame; a mantle coarse,
All stained and knotted, from his shoulder falls,
As with a pole he guides his craft, tends sail,
And in the black boat ferries o'er his dead; --
Old, but a god's old age looks fresh and strong.
[tr. Williams (1910)]
A grim warden guards these waters and streams, terrible in his squalor -- Charon, on whose chin lies a mass of unkempt, hoary hair; his eyes are staring orbs of flame; his squalid garb hangs by a knot from his shoulders. Unaided, he poles the boat, tends the sails, and in his murky craft convoys the dead -- now aged, but a god's old age is hardy and green.
[tr. Fairclough (1916)]
A dreadful ferryman looks after the river crossing,
Charon: appallingly filthy he is, with a bush of unkempt
White beard upon his chin, with eyes like jets of fire;
And a dirty cloak draggles down, knotted about his shoulders.
He poles the boat, he looks after the sails, he is all the crew
Of that rust-coloured wherry which takes the dead across --
An ancient now, but a god's old age is green and sappy.
[tr. Day-Lewis (1952)]
Grim Charon is the squalid ferryman,
is guardian of these streams, these rivers; his
white hairs lie thick, disheveled on his chin;
his eyes are firest that stare, a filthy mantle
hangs down his shoulder by a knot. Alone,
he poles the boat and tends the sails and carries
the dead in his dark ship, old as he is;
but old age in a god is tough and green.
[tr. Mandelbaum (1971), l. 394ff.]
Here the ferryman,
A figure of fright, keeper of waters and streams,
Is Charon, fowl and terrible, his beard
Grown wild and hoar, his staring eyes all flame,
His sordid cloak hung from a shoulder knot.
Alone he poles his craft and trims the sail
And in his rusty hull ferries the dead,
Old now -- but old age in the gods is green.
[tr. Fitzgerald (1981), l. 407ff]
These are the rivers and waters guarded by the terrible Charon in his filthy rags. On his chin there grows a thick grey beard, never trimmed. His glaring eyes are lit with fire and a foul cloak hangs from a knot at his shoulder. With his own hands he plies the pole and sees to the sails as he ferries the dead in a boat the colour of burnt iron. He is no longer young but, being a god, enjoys rude strength and a green old age.
[tr. West (1990)]
A grim ferryman watches over the rivers and streams,
Charon, dreadful in his squalor, with a mass of unkempt
white hair straggling from his chin: flames glow in his eyes,
a dirty garment hangs, knotted from his shoulders.
He poles the boat and trims the sails himself,
and ferries the dead in his dark skiff,
old now, but a god’s old age is fresh and green.
[tr. Kline (2002)]
The keeper of these waters
Was Charon, the grim ferryman, frightening
In his squalor. Unkempt hoary whiskers
Bristled on his chin,m his eyes like flares
Were sunk in flame, and a filhy cloak hung
By a knot from his shoulder. He poled the boat
Himself, and trimmed the sails, hauling the dead
In his rusty barge. He was already old,
But a god's old age is green and raw.
[tr. Lombardo (2005), l. 367ff]
And here the dreaded ferryman guards the flood,
grisly in his squalor -- Charon ...
his scraggly beard a tangled mat of white, his eyes
fixed in a fiery stare, and his grimy rags hang down
from his shoulders by a knot. But all on his own
he punts his craft with a pole and hoists sail
as he ferries the dead souls in his rust-red skiff.
He’s on in years, but a god’s old age is hale and green.
[tr. Fagles (2006), l. 340ff]
Filthy Charon, wearing rags, ferried ghosts across the sxtream. His lengthy beard was matted stiff, his eyes stared fixed and fierce. A dirty wrap was tied around his neck. He poled the boat himself, tending to the sails, toting bodies in the dingy raft. He was old, but it was the green and raw old age of gods.
[tr. Bartsch (2021)]
Here lamentation, groans, and wailings deep Reverberated through the starless air, So that it made me at the beginning weep.
Uncouth tongues, horrible chatterings of despair, Shrill and faint cries, words of grief, tones of rage, And with it all, smiting of hands, were there,
Making a tumult nothing could assuage, To swirl in the air that knows not day or night, Like sand within the whirlwind’s eddying cage.
[Quivi sospiri, pianti e alti guai risonavan per l’aere sanza stelle, per ch’io al cominciar ne lagrimai.
Diverse lingue, orribili favelle, parole di dolore, accenti d’ira, voci alte e fioche, e suon di man con elle
facevano un tumolto, il qual s’aggira sempre in quell’aura sanza tempo tinta, come la rena quando turbo spira.]
Dante Alighieri (1265-1321) Italian poet The Divine Comedy [Divina Commedia], Book 1 “Inferno,” Canto 3, l. 22ff (3.22-30) (1309) [tr. Binyon (1943)]
(Source)
Not even in Hell itself, but its antechamber, these are the sounds of those eternally rejected by both Heaven and Hell for standing neutral and not committing to either side. (Source (Italian)). Alternate translations:
There Sighs, and Cries, and horrid Howlings mix'd
With Shrieks, re-echo'd through the starless air,
Which frequent tears of pity from me drew.
Variety of tongues, reproaching Taunts,
Words grief expressing, Accents full of ire,
Voices both loud and hoarse, and clapping Hands
Rais'd in that dusky air a tumult wild,
Like to the sand when by a whirlwind toss'd.
[tr. Rogers (1782), l. 20ff]
Thence, Oh! what wailings from the abject throng
Around the starless sky incessant rung; The short, shrill shriek, and long resounding groan,
The thick sob, panting thro' the cheerless air,
The lamentagle strain of sad despair, And blasphemy, with fierce relentless tone.
Volleying around, the full, infernal choir,
Barbarian tongues, and plaints, and words of ire, (With oft' between the harsh inflicted blow)
In loud discordance from the tribes forlorn
Tumultuous rose, as in a whirlwind borne, With execrations mix'd, and murmurs low.
[tr. Boyd (1802), st. 6-7]
Here sighs with lamentations and loud moans
Resounded through the air pierc'd by no star,
That e'en I wept at entering. Various tongues,
Horrible languages, outcries of woe,
Accents of anger, voices deep and hoarse,
With hands together smote that swell'd the sounds,
Made up a tumult, that for ever whirls
Round through that air with solid darkness stain'd,
Like to the sand that in the whirlwind flies.
[tr. Cary (1814)]
Sighs there, and moaning sobs, and shriller cries Rebounded echoing through the starless air. And early forced the tear-gush from mine eyes:
Tongues of all strain, dread language of despair. Words born of anguish, accents choked with ire, And voices loud and hoarse were mingling there
With sound of hands, to swell one uproar dire That aye went eddying round that timeless gloom. As the sand eddieth in the whirlwind's gyre.
[tr. Dayman (1843)]
Here sighs, plaints, and deep wailings sounded through the starless air: it made me weep at first. Strange tongues, horrible outcries, words of pain, tones of anger, voices deep and hoarse, and the sounds of hands amongst them, made a tumult, which turns itself unceasing in that air for ever dyed, as sand when [it eddies in a whirlwind].
[tr. Carlyle (1849)]
And then the sighs, complaints, and loud, loud groans Resounding through the air without a star, Began to wring my heart with many a tear.
Diverse the tongues and language horrible, The words of sorrow and accents of ire -- High and weak voices -- sound of smiting there
A tumult made, that seemed t' encompass all Within that air, which colourless expands For aye, as when the whirlwinds raise the sands.
[tr. Bannerman (1850)]
Here sighs and moans and wailings terrible Resounded through the dim and starless air; Ev'n at the first my tears might not be stay'd.
Tongues divedrse, foul and horrible discourse, Utterings of grief and accents of deep rage, Words loud and hoarse, the sound of raging hands
Fierce tumult made, which sweeps with ceaseless roll In the deep darkness of that timeless air, As the sand rushes where the whirlwind blow.
[tr. Johnston (1867)]
There sighs, complaints, and ululations loud Resounded through the air without a star, Whence I, at the beginning, wept thereat.
Languages diverse, horrible dialects, Accents of anger, words of agony, And voices high and hoarse, with sound of hands,
Made up a tumult that goes whirling on Forever in that air forever black, Even as the sand doth, when the whirlwind breathes.
[tr. Longfellow (1867)]
There sighs, lamentations, and loud wailings were resounding through the starless air; wherefore I at the beginning wept for them. Divers languages, horrible speech, words of woe, accents of rage, voices loud and faint, and sounds of hands with them, made a tumult, which ever in that air eternally tinted circles as the sand when it is blowing up for a whirlwind.
[tr. Butler (1885)]
There sighings, and complaints, and wailings deep, Resounded ever in the starless air, so that at first I could not help but weep.
Different tongues, speech horrible to hear, Accents of anger and the words of pain, Voices both high and low, hand-clappings there,
Made up a tumult which aye whirls amain Through the thick air, eternally obscure, Like sand storm-driven o'er the desert plane.
[tr. Minchin (1885)]
Here sighs, laments, and deep wailings were resounding though the starless air; wherefore at first I wept thereat. Strange tongues, horrible cries, words of woe, accents of anger, voices high and hoarse, and sounds of hands with them, were making a tumult which whirls forever in that air dark without change, like the sand when the whirlwind breathes.
[tr. Norton (1892)]
Here sighs and lamentations and loud cries resounded through the starless air, wherefore at the first I wept to hear them. Tongues of many nations, utterings of horror, words of tribulation, tones of anger, voices loud and hoarse, and amongst them the sounds of hands, made an uproar that circleth unceasingly in that ever darksome air, even as the sand when the hurricane bloweth.
[tr. Sullivan (1893)]
Here sighs and lamentations and shrill wailings Resounded through the air by stars unlighted; Wherefore I wept thereat, e'en at the outset.
Horrible jargons, tongues of divers peoples, Accents of anger, words of bitter sorrow, Shrill and faint voices, sounds of hands among them,
Made a tumultuous uproar, that for ever Eddies athwart that air's eternal blackness, As sand when there is blast of coming whirlwind.
[tr. Griffith (1908)]
There sighs, lamentations and loud wailings resounded through the starless air, so that at first it made me weep; strange tongues, horrible language, words of pain, tones of anger, voices loud and hoarse, and with these the sound of hands, madea tumult which is whirling always through that air forever dark, as sand eddies in a whirlwind.
[tr. Sinclair (1939)]
Here sighing, and here crying, and loud railing Smote on the starles air, with lamentation, So that at first I wept to hear such wailing.
Tongues mixed and mingled, horrible execration, Shrill shrieks, hoarse groans, fierce yells and hideous blether And clapping of hands thereto, without cessation
Made tumult through the timeless night, that hither And thither drives in dizzying circles sped, As whirlwind whips the spinning sands together.
[tr. Sayers (1949)]
Here sighs and cries and wails coiled and recoiled on the starless air, spilling my soul to tears. A confusion of tongues and monstrous accents toiled
in pain and anger. Voices hoarse and shrill and sounds of blows, all intermingled, raised tumult and pandemonium that still
whirls on the air forever dirty with it as if a whirlwind sucked at sand.
[tr. Ciardi (1954), ll. 22-29]
Here sighs, laments, and loud wailings were resounding through the starless air, so that at first they made me weep. Strange tongues, horrible outcries, utterances of woe, accents of anger, voices shrill and faint, and the beating of hands among them, were making a tumult that swirls unceasingly in that dark and timeless air, like sand when a whirlwind blows.
[tr. Singleton (1970)]
Here sighs and cries and shrieks of lamentation echoed through the starless air of Hell; at first these sounds resounding made me weep:
tongues confused, a language strained in anguish with cadences of anger, shrill outcries and raucous groans in time to slapping hands,
raising a whirling storm that turns itself forever through that air of endless black, like grains of sand swirling when a whirlwind blows.
[tr. Musa (1971)]
Here sighs and lamentations and loud cries were echoing across the starless air, so that, as soon as I set out, I wept.
Strange utterances, horrible pronouncements, accents of anger, words of suffering, and voices shrill and faint, and beating hands --
all went to make a tumult that will whirl forever through that turbid, timeless air, like sand that eddies when a whirlwind swirls.
[tr. Mandelbaum (1980)]
Here there were sighings and complaints and howlings, Resounding in the air under no stars; So that at first I found myself in tears.
A jumble of languages, deformities of speech, Words which were pain, with intonations of anger, Voices which were deep and hoarse, hands clapped together,
Made altogether a tumult, round and round, Unceasingly in that air in which all was colorless, Just as it might be in a perpetual sandstorm.
[tr. Sisson (1981)]
The sighs, groans, and laments at first were so loud, Resounding through starless air, I began to weep; Strange languages, horrible screams, words imbued
With rage or despair, cries as of troubled sleep Or of a tortured shrillness -- they rose in a coil Of tumult, along with noises like the slap
Of beating hands, all fused in a ceaseless flail That churms and frenzies that dark and timeless air Like sand in a whirlwind.
[tr. Pinsky (1994)]
There sighs, weeping, loud wailing resounded through the starless air, for which at the outset I shed tears. Strange languages, horrible tongues, words of pain, accents of anger, voices loud and hoarse, and sounds of blows with them, made a tumult that turns forever in that air darkened without time, like the sand when a whirlwind blows.
[tr. Durling (1996)]
Here sighs, complaints, and deep groans, sounded through the starless air, so that it made me weep at first. Many tongues, a terrible crying, words of sadness, accents of anger, voices deep and hoarse, with sounds of hands amongst them, making a turbulence that turns forever, in that air, stained, eternally, like sand spiraling in a whirlwind.
[tr. Kline (2002)]
Resounding through the starless firmament, such a commotion of groans and wails of woe, I wept myself from sheer bewilderment;
outlandish tongues, and accents doloroso, howls, shrieks, grunts, gasps, bawls, a never-ending, terrible crescendo,
rising to vast compulsory applause, revolving like sand or locusts in a storm, turning the air black as funereal gauze.
[tr. Carson (2002)]
Sighing, sobbing, moans and plaintive wailing all echoed here through air where no star shone, and I, as this began, began to weep.
Discordant tongues, harsh accents of horror, tormented words, the twang of rage, strident voices, the sound, as well, of smacking hands,
together these all stirred a storm that swirled for ever in the darkened air where no time was as sand swept up in breathing spires of wind.
[tr. Kirkpatrick (2006)]
Now sighs, loud wailing, lamentation resounded through the starless air, so that I too began to weep.
Unfamiliar tongues, horrendous accents, words of suffering, cries of rage, voices loud and faint, the sound of slapping hands --
all these made a tumult, always whirling in that black and timeless air, as sand is swirled in a whirlwind.
[tr. Hollander/Hollander (2007)]
To that unknown place, where shrieks and desperate sighs, Weeping, and fervent moaning filled the starless Air; I couild not keep myself from crying.
All sorts of tongues, a flood of horrible words, Much aching speech, with bursts of furious rage, Some loud, some weak, and hands that flapped like birds,
Blew in a swirling roar, forever created Anew, whirling around in that timeless air, Dark as pellets of sand in a hurricane.
[tr. Raffel (2010)]
Where sighs and moans and screams of ruined men,
Filling the air beneath the starless sky,
Resounding everywhere, ane everywhere
Was there inside me. I began to cry,
Stunned by the sound of an unseen nightmare.
Inhuman outcries in all human tongues,
Bad language, bursts of anger, yelps of pain,
Shrill scrambled messages from aching lungs,
And clapped hands, self-applause of the insane:
All this was whipped by its own energy
Into a timeless tumult without form --
Dark as a whirlpool in a dead black sea
Or a whirlwind sucking sand into a storm.
[tr. James (2013), l. 28ff]
In the throat
Of Hell, before the very vestibule
Of opening Orcus, sit Remorse and Grief,
And pale Disease, and sad Old Age, and Fear,
And Hunger that persuades to crime, and Want,
Forms terrible to see. Suffering and Death
Inhabit here, and Death’s own brother, Sleep;
And the mind’s evil Lusts, and deadly War
Lie at the threshold, and the iron beds
Of the Eumenides; and Discord wild,
Her viper-locks with bloody fillets bound.
[Vestibulum ante ipsum, primisque in faucibus Orci
Luctus et ultrices posuere cubilia Curae;
pallentesque habitant Morbi, tristisque Senectus,
et Metus, et malesuada Fames, ac turpis Egestas,
terribiles visu formae: Letumque, Labosque;
tum consanguineus Leti Sopor, et mala mentis
Gaudia, mortiferumque adverso in limine Bellum,
ferreique Eumenidum thalami, et Discordia demens,
vipereum crinem vittis innexa cruentis.]
Virgil (70-19 BC) Roman poet [b. Publius Vergilius Maro; also Vergil] The Aeneid [Ænē̆is], Book 6, l. 274ff (6.274-282) (29-19 BC) [tr. Cranch (1872), l. 336ff]
(Source)
Just at the door, before the gates of hell,
Sorrow repos'd, with her revenging Rage,
Pale sicknesses and discontented age,
Fear, with dire Famine, and base Povertie,
Labour and death, shapes terrible to see.
Then sleep allied to Death, and fond joys are
Plac'd on the other side, with deadly War,
On iron beds, Furies and Discord sit,
Their viperous hair with bloody fillets knit.
[tr. Ogilby (1649)]
Just in the gate and in the jaws of hell,
Revengeful Cares and sullen Sorrows dwell,
And pale Diseases, and repining Age,
Want, Fear, and Famine's unresisted rage;
Here Toils, and Death, and Death's half-brother, Sleep,
Forms terrible to view, their sentry keep;
With anxious Pleasures of a guilty mind,
Deep Frauds before, and open Force behind;
The Furies' iron beds; and Strife, that shakes
Her hissing tresses and unfolds her snakes.
[tr. Dryden (1697)]
Before the vestibule itself, and in the first jaws of hell, Grief and vengeful Cares have placed their couches, and pale Diseases dwell, and disconsolate Old Age, and Fear, and the evil counsellor Famine, and vile deformed Indigence, forms ghastly to the sight! and Death, and Toil; then Sleep, akin to Death, and criminal Joys of the mind; and in the opposite threshold murderous War, and the iron bed-chambers of the Furies, and frantic Discord, having her viperous locks bound with bloody fillets.
[tr. Davidson/Buckley (1854)]
At Orcus' portals hold their lair
Wild Sorrow and avenging Care;
And pale Diseases cluster there, And pleasureless Decay,
Foul Penury, and Fears that kill,
And Hunger, counsellor of ill, A ghastly presence they:
Suffering and Death the threshold keep,
And with them Death's blood-brother, Sleep:
Ill Joys with their seducing spells And deadly War are at the door;
The Furies couch in iron cells,
And Discord maddens and rebels; Her snake-locks hiss, her wreaths drip gore.
[tr. Conington (1866)]
Right in front of the doorway and in the entry of the jaws of hell Grief and avenging Cares have made their bed; there dwell wan Sicknesses and gloomy Eld, and Fear, and ill-counselling Hunger, and loathly Want, shapes terrible to see; and Death and Travail, and thereby Sleep, Death's kinsman, and the Soul's guilty Joys, and death-dealing War full in the gateway, and the Furies in their iron cells, and mad Discord with bloodstained fillets enwreathing her serpent locks.
[tr. Mackail (1885)]
Lo, in the first of Orcus' jaws, close to the doorway side,
The Sorrows and Avenging Griefs have set their beds to bide;
There the pale kin of Sickness dwells, and Eld, the woeful thing,
And Fear, and squalid-fashioned Lack, and witless Hungering,
Shapes terrible to see with eye; and Toil of Men, and Death,
And Sleep, Death's brother, and the Lust of Soul that sickeneth:
And War, the death-bearer, was set full in the threshold's way,
And those Well-willers' iron beds: there heartless Discord lay,
Whose viper-breeding hair about was bloody-filleted.
[tr. Morris (1900), l. 272ff]
Before the threshold, in the jaws of Hell,
Grief spreads her pillow, with remorseful Care.
There sad Old Age and pale Diseases dwell,
And misconceiving Famine, Want and Fear,
Terrific shapes, and Death and Toil appear.
Death's kinsman, Sleep, and Joys of sinful kind,
And deadly War crouch opposite, and here
The Furies' iron chamber, Discord blind
And Strife, her viperous locks with gory fillets twined.
[tr. Taylor (1907), st. 38, l. 334]
In the first courts and entrances of Hell
Sorrows and vengeful Cares on couches lie:
There sad Old Age abides, Diseases pale,
And Fear, and Hunger, temptress to all crime;
Want, base and vile, and, two dread shapes to see,
Bondage and Death : then Sleep, Death's next of kin;
And dreams of guilty joy. Death-dealing War
Is ever at the doors, and hard thereby
The Furies' beds of steel, where wild-eyed Strife
Her snaky hair with blood-stained fillet binds.
[tr. Williams (1910)]
Just before the entrance, even within the very jaws of Hell, Grief and avenging Cares have made their bed; there pale Diseases dwell, and sad Age, and Fear, and ill-counselling Famine, and loathly Want, shapes terrible to view; and Death and Distress; next, Death's own brother Sleep, and the soul's Guilty Joys, and, on the threshold opposite, the death-bearer War, and the Furies' iron cells, and savage Strife, her snaky locks entwined with bloody fillets.
[tr. Fairclough (1916)]
At the first threshold, on the jaws of Orcus,
Grief and avenging Cares have set their couches,
And pale Diseases dwell, and sad Old Age,
Fear, evil-counselling Hunger, wretched Need,
Forms terrible to see, and Death, and Toil,
And Death’s own brother, Sleep, and evil Joys,
Fantasies of the mind, and deadly War,
The Furies’ iron chambers, Discord, raving,
Her snaky hair entwined in bloody bands.
[tr. Humphries (1951)]
See! At the very porch and entrance way to Orcus
Grief and ever-haunting Anxiety make their bed:
Here dwell pallid Diseases, here morose Old Age,
With Fear, ill-prompting Hunger, and squalid Indigence,
Shapes horrible to look at, Death and Agony;
Sleep, too, which is the cousin of Death; and Guilty Joys,
And there, against the threshold, War, the bringer of Death:
Here are the iron cells of the Furies, and lunatic Strife
Whose viperine hair is caught up with a headband soaked in blood.
[tr. Day-Lewis (1952)]
Before the entrance, at the jaws of Orcus,
both Grief and goading Cares have set their couches;
there pale Diseases dwell, and sad Old Age,
and Fear and Hunger, that worst counselor,
and ugly Poverty -- shapes terrible
to see -- and Death and Trials; Death's brother, Sleep,
and all the evil Pleasures of the mind;
and War, whose fruits are death; and facing these,
the Furies' iron chambers; and mad Strife,
her serpent hair bound up with bloody garlands.
[tr. Mandelbaum (1971), l. 363ff]
Before the entrance, in the jaws of Orcus,
Grief and avenging Cares have made their beds,
And pale Diseases and sad Age are there,
And Dread, and Hunger that sways men to crime,
And sordid Want -- in shapes to affright the eyes --
And Death and Toil and Deaths;s own brother, Sleep,
And the mind's evil joys; on the door sill
Death-bringing War, and iron cubicles
Of the Eumenidës, and raving Discord,
Viperish hair bound up in gory bands.
[tr. Fitzgerald (1981)]
Before the entrance hall of Orcus, in the very throat of hell, Grief and Revenge have made their beds and Old age lives there in despair, with white faced Diseases and Fear and Hunger, corrupter of men, and squalid Poverty, things dreadful to look upon, and Death and Drudgery besides. Then there were Sleep, Death's sister, perverted Pleasures, murderous War astride the threshold, the iron chambers of the Furies and raving Discord with blood-soaked ribbons binding her viperous hair.
[tr. West (1990)]
Right before the entrance, in the very jaws of Orcus,
Grief and vengeful Care have made their beds,
and pallid Sickness lives there, and sad Old Age,
and Fear, and persuasive Hunger, and vile Need,
forms terrible to look on, and Death and Pain:
then Death’s brother Sleep, and Evil Pleasure of the mind,
and, on the threshold opposite, death-dealing War,
and the steel chambers of the Furies, and mad Discord,
her snaky hair entwined with blood-wet ribbons.
[tr. Kline (2002)]
Just before the entrance, in the very jaws
Of Orcus, Grief and avenging Cares
Have set their beds. Pale Diseases
Dwell there, sad Old Age, Fear, Hunger --
The tempter -- and foul Poverty,
All fearful shapes, and Death and Toil,
And Death's brother Sleep, Guilty Joys,
And on the threshold opposite, lethal War,
The Furies in iron cells, and mad Strife,
Her snaky hair entwined with bloody bands.
[tr. Lombardo (2005)]
There in the entryway, the gorge of hell itself,
Grief and the pangs of Conscience make their beds,
and fatal pale Disease lives there, and bleak Old Age,
Dread and Hunger, seductress to crime, and grinding Poverty,
all, terrible shapes to see -- and Death and deadly Struggle
and Sleep, twin brother of Death, and twisted, wicked Joys
and facing them at the threshold, War, rife with death,
and the Furies’ iron chambers, and mad, raging Strife
whose blood-stained headbands knot her snaky locks.
[tr. Fagles (2006), l. 312ff]
At the entrance, in Orcus' very jaws, Grief and vengeful Sorrow made their beds, and Pale Diseases, sad Old Age, and Fear and ill-advising Hunger and shameful Poverty, forms horrible to see, and Death and Suffering, then Death's brother Slumber, and the Joys of evil men. Facing them were murderous War and the Furies' iron chambers and mad Discord, her serpent hair bound up with bloody ribbons.
[tr. Bartsch (2021)]
THROUGH ME THE WAY TO THE CITY OF WOE, THROUGH ME THE WAY TO EVERLASTING PAIN. THROUGH ME THE WAY AMONG THE LOST.
JUSTICE MOVED MY MAKER ON HIGH. DIVINE POWER MADE ME, WISDOM SUPREME, AND PRIMAL LOVE.
BEFORE ME NOTHING BUT THINGS ETERNAL, AND ETERNAL I ENDURE. ABANDON ALL HOPE, YOU WHO ENTER HERE.
[Per me si va ne la città dolente, per me si va ne l’etterno dolore, per me si va tra la perduta gente.
Giustizia mosse il mio alto fattore; fecemi la divina podestate, la somma sapïenza e ’l primo amore.
Dinanzi a me non fuor cose create se non etterne, e io etterno duro. Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch’intrate.]
Dante Alighieri (1265-1321) Italian poet The Divine Comedy [Divina Commedia], Book 1 “Inferno,” Canto 3, l. 1ff (3.1-9) (1309) [tr. Hollander/Hollander (2007)]
(Source)
Inscription on the outer gate to Hell. Sometimes quoted/translated to use "all" to modify "you who enter" rather than "hope," but in the Italian, "ogni speranza" means "all hope."
Note that Hell is the creation of all aspects of the Trinity: Power (the Father), Wisdom (the Son), and Love (the Holy Spirit). Regarding the last, Boyd notes: "That Love to the general welfare that must induce a moral Governor to enforce his laws by the sanction of punishment; as here a mistaken humanity is cruelty."
Through me you to the doleful City go; Through me you go where there is eternal Grief; Through me you go among the Sinners damn'ed.
With strictest justice is this portal made, By Power, Wisdom, and by Love divine.
Nothing before me e'er created was; Unless eternal, as I also am. Ye who here enter to return despair.
[tr. Rogers (1782)]
Thro' me, the newly-damn'd for ever fleet, In ceaseless shoals, to Pain's eternal seat; Thro' me they march, and join the tortur'd crew.
The mighty gulph offended Justice made; Unbounded pow'r the strong foundation laid, And Love, by Wisdom led, the limits drew.
Long ere the infant world arose to light, I found a being in the womb of night. Eldest of all -- but things that ever last! --
And I for ever last! -- Ye hear is of Hell, Here bid at once your ling'ring hope farewell, And mourn the moment of repentance past!
[tr. Boyd (1802), st. 1-2]
Through me you pass into the city of woe: Through me you pass into eternal pain: Through me among the people lost for aye.
Justice the founder of my fabric mov'd: To rear me was the task of power divine, Supremest wisdom, and primeval love.
Before me things create were none, save things Eternal, and eternal I endure. "All hope abandon ye who enter here."
[tr. Cary (1814)]
Through me the path to city named of Wail; Through me the path to woe without remove; Through me the path to damned souls in bale!
Justice inclined my Maker from above; I am by virtue of the Might Divine, The Supreme Wisdom, and the Primal Love.
Created birth none antedates to mine, Save endless things, and endless I endure: Ye that are entering -- all hope resign.
[tr. Dayman (1843)]
Through me is the way into the doleful city; through me the way into the eternal pain; through me the way among the people lost. Justice moved my High Maker; Divine Power made me, Wisdom Supreme, and Primal Love. Before me were no things created, but eternal; and eternal I endure: leave all hope, ye that enter.
[tr. Carlyle (1849)]
Through me the way into the sad city -- Through me the way into eternal grief -- Through me to nations lost without relief.
Justice it was that moved my Maker high, The power divine of Architect above, The highest wisdom and the earliest love.
The things of time were not before me, and 'Mid eternal eternally I stand. All you that enter must leave hope behind.
[tr. Bannerman (1850)]
I am the way unto the dolorous city; I am the way unto th' eternal dole; I am the way unto the spirits lost.
By Justice was my mighty Maker mov'd; Omnipotence Divine created me, Infinite Wisdom and Primeval Love.
Prior to me no thing created was But things eternal -- I eternal am; Leave hope behind all ye who enter here.
[tr. Johnston (1867)]
Through me the way is to the city dolent; Through me the way is to eternal dole; Through me the way among the people lost.
Justice incited my sublime Creator; Created me divine Omnipotence, The highest Wisdom and the primal Love.
Before me there were no created things, Only eterne, and I eternal last. All hope abandon, ye who enter in!
[tr. Longfellow (1867)]
THROUGH ME IS THE WAY INTO THE WOEFUL CITY; THROUGH ME IS THE WAY TO THE ENTERNAL WOE; THROUGH ME IS THE WAY AMONG THE LOST FOLK. JUSTICE MOVED MY HIGH MAKER; MY MAKER WAS THE POWER OF GOD, THE SUPREME WISDOM, AND PRIMAL LOVE. BEFORE ME WERE NO THINGS CREATED SAVE THINGS ETERNAL, AND ETERNAL I ABIDE; LEAVE EVERY HOPE, O YE THAT ENTER.
[tr. Butler (1885)]
Through me ye pass into the city of woe, Through me into eternal pain ye rove; Through me amidst the people lost ye go.
My high Creator justice first did move; Me Power Divine created, and designed, The highest wisdom and the primal love.
Previous to me was no created kind, Save the Eternal; I eternal last. Ye who here enter, leave all hope behind.
[tr. Minchin (1885)]
Through me is the way into the woeful city; through me is the way into eternal woe; through me is the way among the lost people. Justice moved my lofty maker: the divine Power, the supreme Wisdom and the primal Love made me. Before me were no things created, unless eternal, and I eternal last. Leave every hope, ye who enter!
[tr. Norton (1892)]
Through me lieth the way to the city of tribulation; through me lieth the way to the pain that hath no end; through me lieth the way amongst the lost. Justice it was that moved my august maker; God's puissance reared me, wisdom from on high, and first-born love. Before me created things were not, save those that are eternal; and I abide eternally. Leave every hope behind, ye that come within.
[tr. Sullivan (1893)]
Through me the road is to the city doleful: Through me the road is to eternal dolour: Through me the road is through the lost folk's dwelling:
Justice it was that moved my lofty Maker: Divine Omnipotence it was that made me, Wisdom supreme, and Love from everlasting:
Before me were not any things created. Save things eternal: I endure eternal: Leave every hope behind you, ye who enter.
[tr. Griffith (1908)]
THROUGH ME THE WAY INTO THE WOEFUL CITY, THROUGH ME THE WAY TO THE ETERNAL PAIN, THROUGH ME THE WAY AMONG THE LOST PEOPLE.
JUSTICE MOVED MY MAKER ON HIGH, DIVINE POWER MADE ME AND SUPREME WISDOM AND PRIMAL LOVE;
BEFORE ME NOTHING WAS CREATED BUT ETERNAL THINGS AND I ENDURE ETERNALLY. ABANDON EVERY HOPE, YE THAT ENTER.
[tr. Sinclair (1939)]
v
THROUGH ME THE WAY IS TO THE CITY OF WOE: THROUGH ME THE WAY INTO THE ETERNAL PAIN; THROUGH ME THE WAY AMONG THE LOST BELOW.
RIGHTEOUSNESS DID MY MAKER ON HIGH CONSTRAIN. ME DID DIVINE AUTHORITY UPREAR; ME SUPREME WISDOM AND PRIMAL LOVE SUSTAIN.
BEFORE I WAS, NO THINGS CREATED WERE SAVE THE ETERNAL, AND I ETERNAL ABIDE. RELINQUISH ALL HOPE, YE WHO ENTER HERE.
[tr. Binyon (1943)]
THROUGH ME THE ROAD TO THE CITY OF DESOLATION, THROUGH ME THE ROAD TO SORROWS DIUTURNAL, THROUGH ME THE ROAD AMONG THE LOST CREATION.
JUSTICE MOVED MY GREAT MAKER; GOD ETERNAL WROUGHT ME: THE POWER, AND THE UNSEARCHINBLY HIGH WISDOM, AND THE PRIMAL LOVE SUPERNAL.
NOTHING ERE I 2WAS MADE WAS MADE TO BE SAVE THINGS ENTERNE, AND I ETERNE ABIDE; LAY DOWN ALL HOPE, YOU THAT GO IN BY ME.
[tr. Sayers (1949)]
I AM THE WAY INTO THE CITY OF WOE. I AM THE WAY TO A FORSAKEN PEOPLE. I AM THE WAY INTO ETERNAL SORROW.
SACRED JUSTICE MOVED MY ARCHITECT. I WAS RAISED HERE BY DIVINE OMNIPOTENCE, PRIMORDIAL LOVE, AND ULTIMATE INTELLECT.
ONLY THOSE ELEMENTS TIME CANNOT WEAR WERE MADE BEFORE ME, AND BEHOND TIME I STAND. ABANDON ALL HOPE YE WHO ENTER HERE.
[tr. Ciardi (1954)]
THROUGH ME YOU ENTER THE WOEFUL CITY, THROUGH ME YOU ENTER ETERNAL GRIEF, THROUGH ME YOU ENTER AMONG THE LOST.
JUSTICE MOVED MY HIGH MAKER: THE DIVINE POWER MADE ME, THE SUPREME WISDOM, AND THE PRIMAL LOVE.
BEFORE ME NOTHING WAS CREATED IF NOT ETERNAL, AND ETERNAL I ENDURE. ABANDON EVERY HOPE, YOU WHO ENTER.
[tr. Singleton (1970)]
THROUGH ME THE WAY INTO THE DOLEFUL CITY, THROUGH ME THE WAY INTO ETERNAL GRIEF, THROUGH ME THE WAY AMONG A RACE FORSAKEN.
JUSTICE MOVED MY HEAVENLY CONSTRUCTOR; DIVINE OMNIPOTENCE CREATED ME, AND HIGHEST WISDOM JOINED WITH PRIMAL LOVE.
BEFORE ME NOTHING BUT ETERNAL THINGS WERE MADE, AND I SHALL LAST ETERNALLY. ABANDON HOPE, FOREVER, YOU WHO ENTER.
[tr. Musa (1971)]
THROUGH ME THE WAY INTO THE SUFFERING CITY, THROUGH ME THE WAY TO THE ETERNAL PAIN, THROUGH ME THE WAY THAT RUNS AMONG THE LOST.
JUSTICE URGED ON MY HIGH ARTIFICER; MY MAKER WAS DIVINE AUTHORITY, THE HIGHEST WISDOM, AND THE PRIMAL LOVE.
BEFORE ME NOTHING BUT ETERNAL THINGS WERE MADE, AND I ENDURE ETERNALLY. ABANDON EVERY HOPE WHO ENTER HERE.
[tr. Mandelbaum (1980)]
Through me you go into the city of weeping; Through me you go into eternal pain; Through me you go among the lost people.
Justice is what moved my exalted Maker; I was the invention of the power of God, Of his wisdom, and of his primal love.
Before me there was nothing that was created Except eternal things; I am eternal: No room for hope, when you enter this place.
[tr. Sisson (1981)]
THROUGH ME YOU ENTER INTO THE CITY OF WOES, THROUGH ME YOU ENTER INTO ETERNAL PAIN, THROUGH ME YOU ENTER THE POPULATION OF LOSS.
JUSTICE MOVED MY HIGH MAKER, IN POWER DIVINE, WISDOM SUPREME, LOVE PRIMAL. NO THINGS WERE BEFORE ME NOT ENTERNAL; ETERNAL I REMAIN.
ABANDON ALL HOPE, YOU WHO ENTER HERE.
[tr. Pinsky (1994)]
THROUGH ME THE WAY INTO THE GRIEVING CITY, 2THROUGH ME THE WAY INTO ETERNAL SORROW, THROUGH ME THE WAY AMONG THE LOST PEOPLE.
JUSTICE MOVED MY HIGH MAKER; DIVINE POWER MADE ME, HIGHEST WISDOM, AND PRIMAL LOVE.
BEFORE ME WERE NO THINGS CREATED EXCEPT ETERNAL ONES, AND I ENDURE ETERNAL. ABANDON EVERY HOPE, YOU WHO ENTER.
[tr. Durling (1996)]
THROUGH ME THE WAY TO THE INFERNAL CITY: THROUGH ME THE WAY TO ETERNAL SADNESS: THROUGH ME THE WAY TO THE LOST PEOPLE.
JUSTICE MOVED MY SUPREME MAKER: I WAS SHAPED BY DIVINE POWER, BY HIGHEST WISDOM, AND BY PRIMAL LOVE.
BEFORE ME, NOTHING WAS CREATED, THAT IS NOT ETERNAL: AND ETERNAL I ENDURE. FORSAKE ALL HOPE, ALL YOU THAT ENTER HERE.
[tr. Kline (2002)]
Through me, into the city full of woe; through me, the message of eternal pain; through me, the passage where the lost souls go.
Justice moved my Maker in his high domain; Power Divine and Primal Love built me, and Supreme Wisdom; I will aye remain.
Before me there was nothing made to be, except eternity; eternal I endure; all hope abandon, ye who go through me.
[tr. Carson (2002)]
Through me you go to the grief-wracked city. Through me to everlasting pain you go. Through me you go and pass among lost souls.
Justice inspired my exalted Creator. I am a creature of the Holiest Power, of Wisdom in the HIghest and of Primal Love.
Nothing till I was made was made, only eternal beings. And I endure eternally. Surrender as you enter every hope you have.
[tr. Kirkpatrick (2006)]
It is through me you come to the city of sorrow, It is through me you reach eternal sadness, It is through me you join the forever-lost.
Justice moved my makers' wondrous hands; I was made by Heaven's powers, holy, divine, Endless wisdom, primal love of man.
Eternal existence preceded mine, And nothing more. I will exist for ever. Give up all hope, until the end of time.
[tr. Raffel (2010)]
TO ENTER THE LOST CITY, GO THROUGH ME.
THROUGH ME YOU GO TO MEET A SUFFERING
UNCEASING AND ETERNAL. YOU WILL BE
WITH PEOPLE WHO, THROUGH ME, LOST EVERYTHING.
MY MAKER, MOVED BY JUSTICE, LIVES ABOVE.
THROUGH HIM, THE HOLY POWER, I WAS MADE --
MADE BY THE HEIGHT OF WISDOM AND FIRST LOVE,
WHOSE LAWS ALL THOSE IN HERE ONCE DISOBEYED.
FROM NOW ON, EVERY DAY FEELS LIKE YOUR LAST
FOREVER. LET THAT BE YOUR GREATEST FEAR.
YOUR FUTURE NOW IS TO REGRET THE PAST.
FORGET YOUR HOPES. THEY WERE WHAT BROUGHT YOU HERE.
[tr. James (2013)]
But, as for thee, I think and deem it well Thou take me for thy guide, and pass with me Through an eternal place and terrible
Where thou shalt hear despairing cries, and see Long-departed souls that in their torments dire Howl for the second death perpetually.
[Ond’ io per lo tuo me’ penso e discerno che tu mi segui, e io sarò tua guida, e trarrotti di qui per loco etterno;
ove udirai le disperate strida, vedrai li antichi spiriti dolenti, ch’a la seconda morte ciascun grida.]
Dante Alighieri (1265-1321) Italian poet The Divine Comedy [Divina Commedia], Book 1 “Inferno,” Canto 1, l. 112ff (1.112-117) (1309) [tr. Sayers (1949)]
(Source)
Virgil, offering Dante a tour of Hell. There is some debate, reflected in the various translations, as to whether the "second death" is the death of the soul upon damnation, the endless punishments of the damned, a prayed-for total annihilation to end their torment, or the destruction of Hell after the Last Judgment. See Rev. 2:11, 20:14, 21:8.
Wherefore I think, and judge it best that you
Should follow me, and I will be your Guide
From hence to places of eternal woe,
Where you shall hear the wailings of despair,
And see the Ghosts of former times lament,
Who eagerly request a second death.
[tr. Rogers (1782)]
But Heav'n in love to thee hath sent me here
A kind and faithful guide -- dismiss thy fear, Thro' other worlds to lead thy steps along. Thine ears must meet the yell of stern despair,
Where Heav'n's avending hand forgets to spare, And tribes forlorn a second death implore.
[tr. Boyd (1802), st. 20-21]
I for thy profit pond'ring now devise, That thou mayst follow me, and I thy guide Will lead thee hence through an eternal space,
Where thou shalt hear despairing shrieks, and see Spirits of old tormented, who invoke A second death.
[tr. Cary (1814)]
Now for thy weal I counsel and perpend Thou follow hence where I shall lead thee on Through realm eternal, whither if thou wend.
Thine ear shall hear the shrieks of hope foregone, Thine eye shall see the souls of eld in woe, That ever call the second death upon.
[tr. Dayman (1843)]
Wherefore I think and discern this for thy best, that thou follow me; and I will be thy guide, and lead thee hence through an eternal place, where thou shalt hear the hopeless shrieks, shalt see the ancient spirits in pain, so that each calls for a second death.
[tr. Carlyle (1849)]
Thou wilt follow me and I will be thy guide -- 'Tis for thy sake, I think I can discern. From hence I'll lead thee through the place alone,
Where thou shalt hear the desperate shrieks, and see The Antique Spirits in their misery -- Upon the second death they all will cry.
[tr. Bannerman (1850)]
To thee then better counsel I commend, Follow thou me and I will be thy guide, And lead thee hence through the Eternal Realms'
Where thou shalt hear the wail of wild despair, And of old times the sorrowful spirits see Calling in anguish for the second death.
[tr. Johnston (1867)]
Therefore I think and judge it for thy best Thou follow me, and I will be thy guide, And lead thee hence through the eternal place,
Where thou shalt hear the desperate lamentations, Shalt see the ancient spirits disconsolate, Who cry out each one for the second death.
[tr. Longfellow (1867)]
Wherefore I for thy bettering think and decide that thou follow me; and I will be thy guide, and will draw thee from here through an eternal place, where thou shalt hear the shrieks of despair, shalt see the ancient spirits in woe, who each cry upon the second death.
[tr. Butler (1885)]
Now for thy profit in my thoughts I trace How thou mayst follow, I will guide thee fair, From here I'll lead thee through eternal space,
Where thou shalt hear the shriekings of despair, Shalt see the ancient spirits grief-possest, Who each the second death invokes with prayer.
[tr. Minchin (1885)]
Wherefore I think and deem it for thy best that thou follow me, and I will be thy guide, and will lead thee hence through the eternal place where thou shalt hear the despairing shrieks, shalt see the ancient spirits woeful who each proclaim the second death.
[tr. Norton (1892)]
Wherefore in thy behoof I think and deem it well, that thou shouldst follow me ; and I will be thy guide, and lead thee out from this place through the eternal realms, where thou shalt hear shriekings of despair, shalt see the ancient spirits in their sorrowing, so that each crieth aloud for second death.
[tr. Sullivan (1893)]
And therefore, for thy good, I thus determine. That thou do follow me, and I will guide thee, And hence will take thee through a place eternal,
Where thou shalt hear the desperate lamentations, Shalt see the ancient spirits in their dolour. Where for the second death each one makes outcry.
[tr. Griffith (1908)]
Therefore, considering what is best for thee, I judge that thou shouldst follow me, and I shall be thy guide and lead thee hence through an eternal place where thou shalt hear the despairing shrieks of the ancient spirits in pain who each bewail the second death.
[tr. Sinclair (1939)]
Wherefore I judge this fittest for thy case That I should lead thee, and thou follow in faith, To journey hence through an eternal place,
Where thou shalt hear cries of despairing breath, Shalt look on the ancient spirits in their pain, Such that each calls out for a second death.
[tr. Binyon (1943)]
Therefore, for your own good, I think it well
you follow me and I will be your guide and lead you forth through an eternal place. There you shall see the ancient spirits tried
in endless pain, and hear their lamentation as each bemoans the second death of souls.
[tr. Ciardi (1954), l. 105ff]
Therefore I think and deem it best that you should follow me, and I will be your guide and lead you hence through an eternal place, where you shall hear the despairing shrieks and see the ancient tormented spirits who all bewail the second death.
[tr. Singleton (1970)]
And so, I think it best you follow me for your own good, and I shall be your guide and lead you out through an eternal place
where you will hear desperate cries, and see tormented shades, some old as Hell itself, and know what second death is, from their screams.
[tr. Musa (1971)]
Therefore, I think and judge it best for you to follow me, and I shall guide you, taking you from this place through an eternal place,
where you shall hear the howls of desperation and see the ancient spirits in their pain, as each of them laments his second death
[tr. Mandelbaum (1980)]
The course I think would be the best for you, Is to follow me, and I will act as your guide And show a way out of here, by a place in eternity.
Where you will hear the shrieks of men without hope, And will see the ancient spirits in such pain That every one of them calls out for a second death.
[tr. Sisson (1981)]
Therefore I judge it best that you should choose To follow me, and I will be your guide Away from here and through an eternal space:
To hear the cries of despair, and to behold Ancient tormented spirts as they lament In chorus the second death they must abide.
[tr. Pinsky (1994)]
Thus for your good I think and judge that you shall follow me, and I shall be your guide, and I will lead you from here through an eternal place, where you will hear the desperate shrieks, you will see the ancient suffering spirits, who all cry out at the second death.
[tr. Durling (1996)]
It is best, as I think and understand, for you to follow me, and I will be your guide, and lead you from here through an eternal space where you will hear the desperate shouts, will see the ancient spirits in pain, so that each one cries out for a second death.
[tr. Kline (2002)]
But as for you, I think I will advise you well to follow me, and I will be your guide, to lead you hence into a place eternal,
where you'll hear the shrieks, unqualified by hope, of those who suffer so much pain, each wishes that he died a second time.
[tr. Carson (2002)]
Therefore, considering what's best for you, I judge that you should follow, I should guide, and hence through an eternal space lead on.
There you shall hear shrill cries of desperation, And see those spirits, mourning ancient pain, who all cry out for death to come once more.
[tr. Kirkpatrick (2006)]
Therefore, for your sake, I think it wise you follow me: I will be your guide, leading you, form here, through an eternal place
where you shall hear despairing cries and see those ancient souls in pain as they bewail their second death.
[tr. Hollander/Hollander (2007)]
And this is why I think you must allow Yourself to follow me, and I must guide And lead you across an eternal land, where crowds
Of desperate souls will constantly shriek and cry, And you will see the souls of the ancient dead In pain, wanting another chance to die.
[tr. Raffel (2010)]
But by now I've pondered well
The path adapted best to serve your cause,
So let me be your guide. I'll take you through
The timeless breaker's yard where you will hear
The death cries of the damned who die anew
Every day, though dead already in the year --
No dated stones remain to give a clue --
The earliest sinners died, when time began.
[tr. James (2013), l. 146ff]
As we go forward from here, stay at all times behind me, And I'll play the part of your guide. It's my plan To lead you through a place never-ending, i.e., eternal
Hell, where you'll hear the worst kind of wailing, See the ageless shades writhing in pain, Sense their vain request for a second death.
[tr. Bang (2013)]
What is blasphemy? I will give you a definition; I will give you my thought upon this subject. What is real blasphemy?
To live on the unpaid labor of other men — that is blasphemy.
To enslave your fellow-man, to put chains upon his body — that is blasphemy.
To enslave the minds of men, to put manacles upon the brain, padlocks upon the lips — that is blasphemy.
To deny what you believe to be true, to admit to be true what you believe to be a lie — that is blasphemy.
To strike the weak and unprotected, in order that you may gain the applause of the ignorant and superstitious mob — that is blasphemy.
To persecute the intelligent few, at the command of the ignorant many — that is blasphemy.
To forge chains, to build dungeons, for your honest fellow-men — that is blasphemy.
To pollute the souls of children with the dogma of eternal pain — that is blasphemy.
To violate your conscience — that is blasphemy.
The jury that gives an unjust verdict, and the judge who pronounces an unjust sentence, are blasphemers.
The man who bows to public opinion against his better judgment and against his honest conviction, is a blasphemer.
Robert Green Ingersoll (1833-1899) American lawyer, agnostic, orator
Speech to the Jury, Trial of C. B. Reynolds for Blasphemy, Morristown, New Jersey (May 1887)
(Source)
Once, when a religionist denounced me in unmeasured terms, I sent him a card saying, “I am sure you believe that I will go to hell when I die, and that once there I will suffer all the pains and tortures the sadistic ingenuity of your deity can devise and that this torture will continue forever. Isn’t that enough for you? Do you have to call me bad names in addition?”
Isaac Asimov (1920-1992) Russian-American author, polymath, biochemist I, Asimov, ch. 73 “Letters” (1979)
(Source)
I am convinced that boredom is one of the greatest tortures. If I were to imagine Hell, it would be the place where you were continually bored.
Erich Fromm (1900-1980) American psychoanalyst and social philosopher
“Medicine and the Ethical Problem of Modern Man,” The Dogma of Christ and Other Essays (1931)
(Source)
And I’ve always said, you know, that I don’t respect people that don’t proselytize. I don’t respect that at all. If you believe that there’s a heaven and hell, and people could be going to hell — or not getting eternal life, or whatever — and you think that, “Well, it’s not really worth tellin’ ’em this, because it would make it socially awkward.” And atheists who think that people shouldn’t proselytize, “Just leave me alone. Keep your religion to yourself.” How much do you have to hate somebody to not proselytize? How much do you have to hate somebody to believe that everlasting life is possible and not tell them that?
I mean, if I believe, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that a truck was coming at you and you didn’t believe it, that a truck was bearing down on you, there’s a certain point where I tackle you — and this is more important than that.
Penn Jillette (b. 1955) American stage magician, actor, musician, author
“A Gift of a Bible,” Penn Says, ep. 192 (9 Dec 2008)
(Source)
To those who wish to punish others — or at least to see them punished, if the avengers are too cowardly to take matters into their own hands — the belief in a fiery, hideous hell appears to be a great source of comfort.
Steve Allen (1922-2000) American composer, entertainer, and wit. Steve Allen on the Bible, Religion, and Morality, “Hell” (1990)
(Source)
As to a hereafter, we have not the slightest evidence that there is any — no evidence that appeals to logic and reason. I have never seen what to me seemed an atom of proof that there is a future life. And yet — I am strongly inclined to expect one.
Mark Twain (1835-1910) American writer [pseud. of Samuel Clemens]
Quoted in Albert Bigelow Paine, Mark Twain: A Biography, Vol. 4, ch. 264 (1922)
(Source)
And, when you, looking on your fellow men
Behold them doomed to endless misery,
How can you talk of joy and rapture then?
May God withhold such cruel joy from me!
Anne Brontë (1820-1849) British novelist, poet [pseud. Acton Bell]
“A Word to Calvinists” (28 May 1843)
(Source)
You may rejoice to think yourselves secure,
You may be grateful for the gift divine,
That grace unsought which made your black hearts pure
And fits your earthborn souls in Heaven to shine.
But is it sweet to look around and view
Thousands excluded from that happiness,
Which they deserve at least as much as you,
Their faults not greater nor their virtues less?
Anne Brontë (1820-1849) British novelist, poet [pseud. Acton Bell]
“A Word to Calvinists” (28 May 1843)
(Source)
ROWLAND: I think Hell is something you carry around with you, not somewhere you go.
Neil Gaiman (b. 1960) British author, screenwriter, fabulist Sandman, Book 4. Season of Mists, # 25 “Chapter 4” (1991-04)
(Source)
Charles Rowland to Edwin Paine (the "Dead Boy Detectives"). Paine disagrees in a following panel: "I think maybe Hell is a place. But you don't have to stay anywhere forever."
“Do unto others …” is a good rule of thumb. I live by that. Forgiveness is probably the greatest virtue there is. But that’s exactly what it is -‐ a virtue. Not just a Christian virtue. No one owns being good. I’m good. I just don’t believe I’ll be rewarded for it in heaven. My reward is here and now. It’s knowing that I try to do the right thing. That I lived a good life. And that’s where spirituality really lost its way. When it became a stick to beat people with. “Do this or you’ll burn in hell.”
You won’t burn in hell. But be nice anyway.
Ricky Gervais (b. 1961) English comedian, actor, director, writer
“Why I’m an Atheist,” Wall Street Journal (19 Dec 2010)
(Source)
The doors of Hell are locked on the inside. I do not mean that the ghosts may not wish to come out of Hell, in the vague fashion wherein an envious man “wishes” to be happy: but they certainly do not will even the first preliminary stages of that self-abandonment through which alone the soul can reach any good. They enjoy forever the horrible freedom they have demanded, and are therefore self-enslaved: just as the blessed, forever submitting to obedience, become through all eternity more and more free.
C. S. Lewis (1898-1963) English writer, literary scholar, lay theologian [Clive Staples Lewis]
The Problem of Pain (1940)
Music and silence — how I detest them both! How thankful we should be that ever since our Father entered Hell — though longer ago than humans, reckoning in light years, could express — no square inch of infernal space and no moment of infernal time has been surrendered to either of those abominable forces, but all has been occupied by Noise — Noise, the grand dynamism, the audible expression of all that is exultant, ruthless, and virile — Noise which alone defends us from silly qualms, despairing scruples, and impossible desires. We will make the whole universe a noise in the end. We have already made great strides in this direction as regards the Earth. The melodies and silences of Heaven will be shouted down in the end. But I admit we are not yet loud enough, or anything like it.
C. S. Lewis (1898-1963) English writer, literary scholar, lay theologian [Clive Staples Lewis]
The Screwtape Letters (1942)
HAWKEYE: War isn’t Hell. War is war, and Hell is Hell. And of the two, war is a lot worse.
FR. MULCAHEY: How do you figure, Hawkeye?
HAWKEYE: Easy, Father. Tell me, who goes to Hell?
FR. MULCAHEY: Sinners, I believe.
HAWKEYE: Exactly. There are no innocent bystanders in Hell. War is chock full of them — little kids, cripples, old ladies. In fact, except for some of the brass, almost everybody involved is an innocent bystander.
Burt Prelutsky (b. 1940) American TV screenwriter, author, columnist, critic M*A*S*H, 5×20 “The General’s Practitioner” (15 Feb 1977)
The gods had condemned Sisyphus to ceaselessly rolling a rock to the top of a mountain, whence the stone would fall back of its own weight. They had thought with some reason that there is no more dreadful punishment than futile and hopeless labor.
Albert Camus (1913-1960) Algerian-French novelist, essayist, playwright
“The Myth of Sisyphus”, The Myth of Sisyphus (1942)
(Source)
The gates of hell are open night and day;
Smooth the descent, and easy is the way:
But to return, and view the cheerful skies,
In this the task and mighty labor lies.
[Facilis descensus Averno:
Noctes atque dies patet atri ianua Ditis;
Sed revocare gradum superasque evadere ad auras,
Hoc opus, hic labor est.]
Virgil (70-19 BC) Roman poet [b. Publius Vergilius Maro; also Vergil] The Aeneid [Ænē̆is], Book 6, l. 126ff (6.126-129) [The Sybil] (29-19 BC) [tr. Dryden (1697)]
(Source)
To hel's an easie way,
Black Pluto's gates stand open night and day,
But to return, and the bright aire to view,
This is the worke, the labour of a few.
[tr. Ogilby (1649)]
Easy is the path that leads down to hell; grim Pluto's gate stands open night and day: but to retrace one's steps, and escape to the upper regions, this is a work, this is a task.
[tr. Davidson/Buckley (1854)]
The journey down to the abyss Is prosperous and light:
The palace-gates of gloomy Dis Stand open day and night:
But upward to retrace the way
And pass into the light of day,
There comes the stress of labour; this May task a hero's might.
[tr. Conington (1866)]
Easy the way
Down to Avernus; night and day the gates
Of Dis stand open. But to retrace thy steps
And reach the upper air, -- here lies the task,
The difficulty here.
[tr. Cranch (1872)]
Easy is the descent into hell; all night and day the gate of dark Dis stands open; but to recall thy steps and issue to upper air, this is the task and burden.
[tr. Mackail (1885)]
Avernus' road is easy faring down;
All day and night is open wide the door of Dis the black;
But thence to gain the upper air, and win the footsteps back,
This is the deed, this is the toil.
[tr. Morris (1900)]
Down to Avernus the descent is light,
The gate of Dis stands open day and night.
But upward thence thy journey to retrace,
There lies the labour; 'tis a task of might.
[tr. Taylor (1907), st. 19, l. 166ff]
The downward path to death
Is easy; all the livelong night and day
Dark Pluto's door stands open for a guest.
But O! remounting to the world of light,
This is a task indeed, a strife supreme.
[tr. Williams (1910)]
Easy is the descent to Avernus: night and day the door of gloomy Dis stands open; but to recall thy steps and pass out to the upper air, this is the task, this the toil!
[tr. Fairclough (1916)]
By night, by day, the portals of dark Dis
Stand open: it is easy, the descending
Down to Avernus. But to climb again,
To trace the footsteps back to the air above,
There lies the task, the toil.
[tr. Humphries (1951)]
The way to Avernus is easy;
Night and day lie open the gates of death's dark kingdom:
But to retrace your steps, to find the way back to daylight --
That is the task, the hard thing.
[tr. Day-Lewis (1952)]
Easy
the way that leads into Avernus: day
and night the door to darkest Dis is open.
But to recall your steps, to rise again
into the upper air; that is the labor;
that is the task.
[tr. Mandelbaum (1971), l. 175ff]
The way downward is easy from Avernus.
Black Dis's door stands open night and day.
But to retrace your steps to heaven's air,
There is the trouble, there is the toil.
[tr. Fitzgerald (1981)]
It is easy to go down to the underworld. The door of black Dis stands open night and day. But to retrace your steps and escape to the upper air, that is the task, that is the labor.
[tr. West (1990)]
The path to hell is easy:
black Dis’s door is open night and day:
but to retrace your steps, and go out to the air above,
that is work, that is the task.
[tr. Kline (2002)]
The road down
To Avernus is easy. Day and night
The door to black Dis stands open.
But to retrace your steps and come out
To the upper air, this is the task,
The labor.
[tr. Lombardo (2005)]
The descent to the Underworld is easy.
Night and day the gates of shadowy Death stand open wide,
but to retrace your steps, to climb back to the upper air --
there the struggle, there the labor lies.
[tr. Fagles (2006), l. 149ff]
It's easy to descend into Avernus
Night and day the door of dusky Dis lies open.
To trace your steps and see the light again:
here's the toil and effort.
[tr. Bartsch (2021)]
It is easy to go down into Hell;
Night and day, the gates of dark Death stand wide;
But to climb back again, to retrace one's steps to the upper air --
There's the rub, the task.
[Source]
What is blasphemy? I will give you a definition; I will give you my thought upon this subject. What is real blasphemy? To live on the unpaid labor of other men — that is blasphemy. To enslave your fellow-man, to put chains upon his body — that is blasphemy. To enslave the minds of men, to put manacles upon the brain, padlocks upon the lips — that is blasphemy. To deny what you believe to be true, to admit to be true what you believe to be a lie — that is blasphemy. To strike the weak and unprotected, in order that you may gain the applause of the ignorant and superstitious mob — that is blasphemy. To persecute the intelligent few, at the command of the ignorant many — that is blasphemy. To forge chains, to build dungeons, for your honest fellow-men — that is blasphemy. To pollute the souls of children with the dogma of eternal pain — that is blasphemy. To violate your conscience — that is blasphemy. The jury that gives an unjust verdict, and the judge who pronounces an unjust sentence, are blasphemers. The man who bows to public opinion against his better judgment and against his honest conviction, is a blasphemer.
Robert Green Ingersoll (1833-1899) American lawyer, agnostic, orator
Trial of C.B. Reynolds for blasphemy (May 1887)
(Source)
The God of Hell should be held in loathing, contempt and scorn. A God who threatens eternal pain should be hated, not loved — cursed, not worshiped. A heaven presided over by such a God must be below the lowest hell. I want no part in any heaven in which the saved, the ransomed and redeemed will drown with shouts of joy the cries and sobs of hell — in which happiness will forget misery, where the tears of the lost only increase laughter and double bliss.
Robert Green Ingersoll (1833-1899) American lawyer, agnostic, orator
“The Great Infidels” (1881)
(Source)
Heaven is where those are we love, and those who love us. And I wish to go to no world unless I can be accompanied by those who love me here. Talk about the consolations of this infamous doctrine. The consolations of a doctrine that makes a father say, “I can be happy with my daughter in hell;” that makes a mother say, “I can be happy with my generous, brave boy in hell;” that makes a boy say, “I can enjoy the glory of heaven with the woman who bore me, the woman who would have died for me, in eternal agony.” And they call that tidings of great joy.
Robert Green Ingersoll (1833-1899) American lawyer, agnostic, orator
“What Must We Do To Be Saved?” Sec. 9 (1880)
(Source)
O endless wrath of God: how utterly
